Worth
by stayathomemum
Summary: Set in Season 7. When a case hits too close to home, Liv begins to question her very existence and spirals into depression. Will Elliot be there to pick up the pieces? E/O.
1. Chapter 1

Worth

 _A/N: This is my very first SVU fic, and I'll admit that I haven't seen every single episode. In fact, after Meloni left, so did I. Major E/O shipper here! I've seen a few of the new episodes, but I prefer to set my story in the past, say season 7-ish. No spoilers. Definitely pre-Fault._

The cleaning lady muttered to herself, complaining about the colossal mess the party goers had left in their wake. She hated working the overnight shift, but this gig at the Palisade Banquet Hall paid time and a half, and with minimum wage being so low, she needed the cash. She dunked the heavy mop again and again in the bright yellow plastic pail, and pressed out the excess water. She was tired, her shoulders hurt from mopping and scrubbing and bending down to clean toilets. The high school prom had ended late, well after midnight and it was almost two in the morning now. She had four more toilet stalls to go, then the rest of the bathroom floor. She sighed, opened the stall door, completely unprepared for the sight that greeted her. A pool of dark, sticky blood coated the floor and the toilet seat. A clearer, watery liquid surrounded the blood. Her pulse accelerated and she swallowed hard as she peered into the toilet. The high pitched shriek that erupted from her throat of its own accord startled her and she fell back, unable to accept what she was seeing.

The insistent sound of her cell phone pierced through Detective Olivia Benson's sleep. She groaned and squinted at her alarm clock. Three eleven in the morning. Her eyes stung from lack of sleep but she understood her duty well. She and Elliot were on call.

"Benson," she answered the phone, stifling a loud yawn.

"Sorry to wake you, Liv. We caught a case. I'm downstairs." Elliot sounded apologetic and weary. If he was already downstairs, it meant he'd driven all the way from Queens before calling her. She threw on a pair of jeans, a long sleeved cotton shirt, secured her holster beneath her leather jacket and ran down the stairs, out her building to the dark sedan parked in front.

"Hey," she greeted him as she slid into the passenger seat. "Thanks for letting me have extra sleep while you drove here." He acknowledged her words with a nod of his head but said nothing.

"What'd we catch?" she asked, noting his subdued demeanor. Elliot Stabler was strong, mentally and physically with plenty of field experience. He didn't usually react before arriving on the scene. He put the car into drive and said nothing for a few moments. She knew better than to rush him.

"The victim is a baby," he said in a low voice. "A dead newborn baby, found in a toilet." He cleared his throat and sniffed loudly.

"Oh." Olivia felt a familiar sickening squeeze in her lower gut, the one she always got when their cases involved children. Despite everything she'd seen on the job, the darkness that sometimes threatened to overwhelm her, the twisted evil of perps, the violence, and the gore, she was able to compartmentalize her work. But when the vic was a kid, all bets were off. She knew Elliot was the same way. Being a father made these cases extra difficult for him, but for her, it was her childlessness. When a child was murdered, her deep longing mother-heart simply cracked.

"Palisade Banquet Hall. Senior Prom. Cleaning lady found … it." His staccato words like little bullets of information, shot into the car's quiet interior.

"A prom? You mean a girl gave birth on a toilet during her prom?" Olivia asked incredulously.

"That's a supposition. Let's hold off on those for now." Elliot went quiet again and focused on the drive. He didn't speak for the rest of the trip, and Liv gave him this silence, this time for him to bolster his strength. She also needed to prep for their imminent arrival on the scene.

When they arrived, Melinda was already there in the tiny bathroom stall, her crouched pose hiding the victim. Olivia stood by and looked to Elliot. He was pale and in no hurry to see the body either.

"What, um, what happened, Melinda?" Liv asked, her small voice echoing in the cavernous bathroom.

Melinda drew a deep breath before standing and facing the detectives. When she stood, the tiny baby's body came into view. Olivia gasped and Elliot closed his eyes. The newborn girl was blue and delicate, fragile really. Her translucent skin couldn't hide the veins and arteries beneath. But she was perfect, ten fingers and ten toes, a tiny rosebud mouth and a soft patch of reddish hair on her pale head.

"Full term baby, six pounds, four ounces, born alive. She drowned in the toilet," Melinda explained. "Based on lividity, I'd say time of death occurred within the last five hours." She shook her head sadly. "This baby was in perfect health. I'm calling it a homicide, pending full autopsy results."

"Five hours ago, the prom was in full swing," Elliot said. "How on earth did a pregnant girl give birth at her prom? Didn't anybody notice?"

"Probably a concealed pregnancy," Liv observed. She crouched down, and stared at the tiny girl, studying her in detail, venerating her appearance to memory, for she knew this baby would soon be buried and nobody would claim her. She clenched her fists. Olivia wanted nothing more than to have a baby of her own; the craving was borne of her very soul. She dreamt about being pregnant, about holding a sweet newborn, and was acutely aware of her dwindling time. At thirty-eight, the biological clock had ceased to chime and was now clanging wildly in a discordant cacophony. She couldn't shut it up even if she tried. Through blurry tears, she cast her gaze upon the baby one last time and swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Liv, you okay?" Elliot asked, though he could see she wasn't.

"I'm fine." Olivia looked away from her partner's piercing blue gaze. "We're going to have to interview the prom goers and find out who was pregnant. Then we're going to …"

"Liv! It's three in the morning. I think it can hold until tomorrow," Elliot said, his voice gentle and calm.

"I still have to perform a full autopsy to confirm my suspicions about the drowning," Melinda chimed in. "It's an educated guess but I need to ensure that her lungs contain water. I'll call you guys with my final results later this morning. The unis are collecting evidence; they're almost done."

"So that's it? We just go home?" Olivia gritted her teeth against the feeling of helplessness.

"Cribs for me. Not driving all the way back to Queens just to get stuck in traffic later. But I can drop you back home, Liv. Try and get a few hours' sleep before work, okay?"

"Sleep? As if," she mumbled. There was no way in hell she was going to sleep now. She couldn't get the dead baby's image out of her head.

"Yeah, sleep. C'mon." Olivia stood fused to the floor, not moving for a long moment. Elliot finally placed his hand on the small of her back to steer her out of the bathroom. He rarely touched her and she flinched at the unfamiliar sensation. "Sorry," he muttered.

"I'm not going home," she declared. She didn't want to be alone with the horrifying images of this crime. She didn't want to pretend to sleep.

"Cribs too?"

"Yeah."

He nodded at her. "Let's go."

* * *

The next morning, a full investigation was underway. After Warner confirmed that the baby had indeed been born alive and drowned in the toilet, Cragen ordered Benson and Stabler to interview the students from the prom. They were from an all girls' Catholic school, Sorrowful Virgin. He called the school for assistance and asked them to gather all of the students in the school auditorium, not an easy task on the Saturday morning following prom.

The detectives pulled up to Sorrowful Virgin, just north of Manhattan. Olivia took in the gothic grey building, its perfectly manicured garden and the majestic fir trees on either side. "Swanky place," she commented.

"I wanted to send Maureen here but the tuition is almost twenty grand a year," Elliot replied. "You'd think all those nuns breathing down their necks would have prevented a pregnancy, hmf."

Olivia's eyes widened. She didn't want to get into it with Elliot, but she seriously believed that a lack of proper sex education and the veneration of a Virginal figurehead wasn't helping anything in terms of pregnancy prevention. She couldn't even begin to understand Catholicism but she respected the fact that it was an important part of her partner's life. So she kept her musings to herself.

As they exited the car and began to head up the steps to the front entrance, he stopped her. "You didn't get any sleep in the cribs, did you?"

Olivia shook her head. She'd tried to sleep, had lain down in the bunk across from Elliot's and observed his deep, even breathing, jealous of his ability to sleep so soundly after such a disturbing find. "Not a wink." She pushed past him toward the school entrance.

"Hey, Liv, wait," he ran after her and stopped in front of her. "Cases with kids … you know they're the hardest. So, if you need a break …" he trailed off, uncertain now because Liv had pushed past him and continued up the steps.

"El, we have to interview those kids. I can do my job."

"I know that, Olivia. I got your back, okay?" She paused and nodded her head.

"And I've got yours. Let's go."

The school gymnasium was filled with hung-over, exhausted, and resentful teenagers. Some of them were still in their prom clothes, not having had a chance to go home and change before being summoned on their cell phones. Olivia looked at the pale faces, some streaked with mascara, and all with scowls.

"I'm detective Olivia Benson and this is my partner Elliot Stabler. We asked you to come this morning because we need to speak to you about a crime that occurred. A crime that happened during your prom. A murder." She paused for emphasis and observed the girls' expressions, looking for that one face to betray itself. She couldn't find it. Scowls had now morphed into curiosity and surprise and whispers of confusion emanated from the group before her.

"Murder?" An Asian girl asked. "Are you saying somebody was murdered at our prom?"

"Yes. Anybody know anything about that?" Elliot probed, not yet willing to disclose the victim's identity. He too was seeking that one guilty face. But all the kids standing before him were too shocked and horrified to appear guilty.

"Oh my god!" another girl shrieked. "Where's Tess? Guys, Tess isn't here. Was it Tess?"

Murmurs in the crowd grew louder with more kids asking where Tess was. The din reached a crescendo and some of the kids were beginning to freak out.

Olivia clapped her hands to get their attention. "Ahem, what can you tell me about Tess? When was the last time you saw her?"

The kids all began speaking over each other, at once and the detectives couldn't make any sense of what they were saying.

"Ok, everybody quiet!" Elliot shouted. "Who can tell me about Tess? She got a best friend?"

Nobody moved. Then a voice from the back said, "You need to ask Rachel."

"Alright, which one of you is Rachel?" Olivia asked. Nobody moved. "Rachel? Is Rachel here?"

"That's Rachel," a girl said, and pointed to a tiny brunette hidden in the back of the room. Rachel shirked back and stared at her shoes. Her face was flushed and worried. Olivia approached her slowly and confirmed her identity. "Are you Rachel?" she asked. Rachel nodded.

"Is Tess dead?" she croaked, tears beginning to form in her eyes. She looked at Olivia pleadingly. "Please, tell me she's okay."

"Tess isn't our victim," Olivia replied. "Was she at prom last night?"

"Yeah, she and I went together," Rachel said. "But, she had a stomach ache and went home early. I offered to go with her, but she wanted me to stay and have fun. Not that it was any fun after she left."

"Ok, that's helpful Rachel," Olivia told the scared young girl. She moved Rachel away from the other girls into the relative privacy of the hallway. Elliot followed and motioned to the others to stay where they were.

"At about what time would you say Tess had a stomach ache?"

"Uh. .it was after the food. Tess didn't eat much of the dinner. She said she felt sick and had to go to the bathroom," Rachel told Olivia.

"Did you go with her?"

"At first, I went to see if she was okay but she told me to leave because she needed to, um, needed to go, you know, number two, and she didn't want me there."

"And did she return to your table afterwards?"

"No. She texted me from the john to say she had been sick and needed to go home. She said I should stay. She was gonna call her mom to pick her up."

"Rachel, I want you to think very hard, okay. Did Tess seem at all different to you? Had she gained any weight recently? Changed the way she dressed? Behaved oddly?"

Rachel blinked hard and hid her face in her hands. "How'd you know?" came the muffled reply.

* * *

Elliot and Olivia pulled up to Tess Morgan's house, an elegant two story brownstone. They rang the doorbell and waited. A middle-aged woman opened the door, her face sporting worry lines and her clothes somewhat rumpled. "Yes? May I help you?"

"We're detectives Benson and Stabler," Elliot said by way of introduction as he held out his badge.

"What is this concerning?" The woman appeared very alarmed and kept checking behind her. She let herself out rather than inviting the detectives inside.

"Are you Tess' mother?" Olivia asked.

The woman nodded and her distress level went up about three notches. "Tess? Why are you here about Tess?"

"We'd like to speak with her. It pertains to an event that occurred during her prom last night."

Tess' mother shook her head. "Tess came home early. She became violently ill during her prom. Food poisoning. I had to pick her up before ten. You can't speak with her; she's resting."

Elliot spoke up. "Ma'am, I'm sorry but we're going to have to disturb your daughter. She might have information pertinent to a crime. Has she turned eighteen yet?"

"Yes, she turned eighteen last April. Why? What's going on? I have a sick girl upstairs and she needs me. She missed half of her prom; what information can she possibly have for you?"

"Please, Mrs. Morgan. We only need to ask her a few questions. It's very important," Olivia pleaded. She gave the woman a sympathetic smile and tried to appear as harmless as possible.

"Well alright, but I'm staying with you. Let me check on her first," the woman said begrudgingly. She re-entered her house but didn't hold the door open for the detectives. They had to catch it before it slammed in their faces. They looked at each other and Elliot shook his head. He didn't need to be told when he wasn't welcome. They followed Mrs. Morgan up the stairs, and waited behind Tess' bedroom door until her mother opened the door to them.

"Please be quick; she's very uncomfortable. She's been vomiting throughout the night."

Olivia was concerned and wanted a chance to speak to the girl alone. She stepped into the overtly childish room, taking in the teddy bears and porcelain dolls on display. Tess lay pale and weak, bright red curls spilling over her pink frilly pillow. "Hi Tess, my name is Olivia." Behind her back, she held her hand up, signalling Elliot to stay where he was at the door's threshold. She wanted him to keep the mother back too.

"Are you a nurse?" Tess asked.

"No, I'm a detective. Do you need a nurse, Tess?"

Tess moaned and Olivia noticed the sheen of perspiration on the girl's whiter than white face. She reached her hand and touched Tess' forehead. It was warm. "Are you bleeding heavily?" she asked the girl quietly so her mother wouldn't hear. Tess gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head.

"So much," she whispered. "It's a bad period."

"Actually, I think it might be a post-partum hemorrhage," Olivia whispered, not without sympathy. Tess began to cry.

"Did you give birth during your prom?" Olivia probed. Tess shook her head and looked away, tears streaming out the corners of her eyes. She blinked hard and wiped her face.

"What's going on in there?" Mrs. Morgan pushed past Elliot and tried to get close to her daughter. "What are you two whispering about? Tess, are you okay sweetie?"

"Please, Mrs. Morgan, just one moment …"

"But she's crying … you made my daughter cry!" Tess' outraged mother stomped into the room and pulled Olivia away from the bedside.

"Ma'am, please call an ambulance. Your daughter needs to be seen by a doctor. She's hemorrhaging and she's running a fever. I'm concerned about infection." Olivia raised her voice so the woman would react. "Now!"

Elliot ushered the mother out of the room and to a telephone, giving Olivia a chance to interview the girl without interference.

"Tess, please. If you've just given birth, you need medical attention." She took the girl's limp hand in her own and squeezed. "Hey, you're going to be okay. We're getting you the help you need."

"No!" Tess shouted. "No, they can't see. You don't understand. Please," she whimpered.

"Shhhh, we know Tess. We know. We found her. . your baby. Why, Tess? Why didn't you get help? Why didn't you tell anybody?" Olivia blinked away the image of the dead baby girl in the bathroom and refocused her attention on the terrified girl in the bed.

"Nobody knew. Nobody knew I was pregnant. I just couldn't …." Tess trailed off, crying harder now. She pressed her palms against her leaking eyes and continued to sob. "I didn't mean it. Please, I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it. That thing had to come out. . it hurt. . it hurt so much." Tess went quiet for a moment and asked with true curiosity, "Did it live?"

Olivia shook her head sadly. "No, Tess. She's not alive. You left her in the toilet. Why, why did you do that?"

Tess looked at Olivia, eyes red from crying, green irises brilliant with shiny tears. "I thought if I pretended it hadn't happened, it wouldn't be real. She couldn't be real. She was no good. . not supposed to be. Olivia, she was an evil thing growing inside of me. But abortion is wrong; that's what they keep telling me at school. How can it be wrong if the thing was evil?"

"Evil? How could a baby be evil?" Olivia asked.

"Because evil made her," Tess gasped. "I was raped. I hated her. . hated her. . hated her. . and I didn't want her. The monster put her inside of me. . he's a monster!"

Olivia stared, unable to move, blink or even breathe. The air in the room became suffocating and she felt her lungs compress unable to draw breath. She looked at Tess, aghast. She opened her mouth to speak but words failed her. She was now dealing with a rape victim who had committed a homicide. Murdered her own baby born of rape. Liv shut her eyes and drew shallow painful breaths into her constricted lungs. Victim, murderess, images of a dead newborn baby lying on a cold tile floor, so perfect, so beautiful. Evil? Innocent? In that moment, it all came rushing at her, a dreadful tidal wave of existential crisis, the blood pounding in her ears, threatening to devastate her.

"El," she called, seeking an anchor in the storm. "El. . .come."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Dear readers, thank you so much for your positive reviews and interest in my first SVU fic. You've made me so very welcome in this fandom. And so, the story continues ….._

Something about the tone of her voice made him rush back to her. He burst into Tess' bedroom and blurted out, "Bus is on its way. She okay?" He was asking about their suspect, but his eyes were only on Olivia. She sat, on the edge of Tess' bed, hand over her mouth, eyes dazed. "Liv?" Elliot was quickly by her side, ignoring Mrs. Morgan behind him.

Olivia shook her head and lifted her dark eyes to Elliot's blue ones. He stumbled back at the raw pain that radiated from their depths. "What's going on?" he asked, as he crouched down beside her. For a moment, he glimpsed an infinitesimal truth, an unchecked twinkling of honesty but just as quickly as it had passed across her face, it was gone and he wondered if he'd imagined it. She sat stoically, composure regained and looked at him, then at Tess' mother.

"Mrs. Morgan, your daughter is experiencing a post-partum hemorrhage. She gave birth to a baby during her prom last night, then drowned her in the toilet. I suggest you hire a lawyer." Her voice was cold and controlled, her face a mask. "I'm going to have to arrest your daughter for murder."

"What? No, you're wrong!" Mrs. Morgan stumbled back in shock and put her hands to her heart. "Tessie, Tessie, what is she talking about?" As mother went to comfort her child and shield her from the detective's harshness, Olivia stood and moved away from the bedside.

"But I was raped. It wasn't my fault," Tess cried out from her bed. "Detective Olivia, please, it wasn't my fault." Tess' agonized sobs joined those of her mother's, and the two tearful women looked at Olivia as their entire world crashed around them.

"You were raped?" Elliot asked, appalled. "Liv, she's a victim too."

"She's a murderer," Olivia replied, her face betraying no emotion whatsoever.

Elliot was confused and stared at his partner in astonishment. Olivia was the champion of victim's rights, a natural born comforter, a woman who often shed tears of solidarity with rape victims, and who gave them a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. He couldn't find _that_ Olivia in the compassionless cop before him. His eyes popped widely in shock as Liv drew the cuffs out of her back pocket and faced the terrified teenager. "Wait!" he gasped as he blocked her way. He searched her face but there was nothing. Nothing there at all, just a cold, hard stare. He grabbed the cuffs out of her hand and stuffed them into his jacket pocket. "Not yet! The bus hasn't even gotten here yet; she needs medical attention! And, there's the matter of the rape," he reminded her. "She was raped, Liv."

Liv shoved Elliot aside and got into Tess' face. "Did you report it?" When did it happen? Who raped you? Did you tell anybody? Did you go to the hospital?" She fired the questions in quick succession, not giving the girl a chance to reply.

Tess began sobbing harder and clung to her mother, burying her face in her mother's bosom. "Make her go away, please," she pleaded.

"Liv, come 'ere," Elliot said, as he motioned for her to exit the room. He wondered what the hell was going on with her, but didn't want to start questioning her in front of the victim-suspect. Elliot gently pushed her aside and sat on the edge of Tess' bed. "Can you talk to me, Tess?" he asked in a gentle, paternal voice. She was just a kid, after all, younger than his two oldest daughters. She had a teddy bear clutched to her tummy for god sakes.

"I can't," she whimpered. Before Elliot could respond, the EMT's came barging into the room and began to examine Tess. While Tess was assessed and then moved onto a stretcher, Elliot once again tried to speak to Olivia. They walked behind the EMT's and watched as they loaded Tess into an ambulance.

"What's going on with you?" he asked.

"With me? Nothing. You're the one who isn't arresting that girl for killing her baby. She admitted to it."

"Yeah, but…she was raped, Liv. We need to deal with that too and find the perp. Why the sudden rush to arrest her? They're taking her to the hospital. We can question her after she's been treated by a doctor."

Olivia couldn't contradict his logic, nor could she understand her own frenzied feelings. Whatever sympathy she'd felt for Tess had vanished the moment the girl had admitted that she hated her baby and wanted her dead. In fact, she felt such a surge of inexplicable anger that it had frightened her. Never, ever, had she questioned a rape victim so harshly, so cruelly. She winced as she recalled her inappropriate interview tactics with the scared girl.

"I only want justice for that baby, Elliot," she sighed.

"I get that," he replied, as they got into the car and followed the ambulance. "And we also need to find justice for Tess."

* * *

When they arrived at the hospital, they were informed by the doctor that Tess needed an emergency D&C, because a piece of her placenta had broken off and remained inside, causing bleeding and infection. There was nothing they could do but wait for her to come out of surgery.

Olivia and Elliot sat side by side in the day surgery waiting room, a small area with plastic orange chairs, a TV blaring in the corner and an old vending machine. Elliot finally broke the silence. "You wanna tell me what happened with Tess?" he probed again, more gently this time. His voice was soft and he didn't make eye contact, just stared at his lap, waiting for her response. Harsh confrontations didn't work with Olivia. He felt her shrug but she said nothing.

"Liv? I never saw you go off on a victim like that."

Olivia stood up, stretched her back and walked toward the vending machine. She popped some coins in and pulled out a Pepsi, then repeated her actions. She handed the second pop to Elliot. "Caffeine and sugar fix?" He nodded and they both popped the soda tabs open and took long, thirsty gulps. Elliot studied her as he awaited her reply. She looked tired and disheveled, the lack of sleep apparent by the dark smudges beneath her eyes. Her face was devoid of makeup and he could make out a light dusting of sun spots across her cheeks. He felt a surge of affection for her, and fought the urge to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, for she appeared to need reassurance right now.

"Is it the case?" he asked her, needing more from her than this maddening silence.

She glanced up at him and her eyes met his, then looked away, unable to bear the scrutiny of his gaze. "She killed a baby, Elliot. You seem to be glossing over that fact."

"I'm not!" He held his hands up in defense and shook his head. "But the rape case …"

She cut him off, "You know the rape case is going to prove impossible to prosecute. There's no rape kit, it happened nine months ago, she never said a word, and it'll be her word against his. If we can ever find him, that is."

"So you just want to ignore it?" he asked incredulously, eyebrows shooting up to his receding hairline.

"We can investigate it but it doesn't mitigate her crime. We can arrest her _and_ look into her rape claims," she replied evenly, her face impassive.

" _Doesn't mitigate her crime_? Are you serious, Olivia? We're talking about a teenaged girl who was so traumatized by a rape that she concealed her pregnancy because she couldn't face it. Even from her own mother! She gave birth on a toilet during her prom. She was in denial."

She stared at him. "Are you excusing what she did?" The memory of that perfectly still dead baby on the bathroom tiles rose to her mind's eye. She screwed her eyelids tightly for a few seconds and took a step away from Elliot.

For his part, Elliot realized he'd stepped into a landmine with Olivia. Her nostrils were flaring, which was never a good sign. "She could've had an abortion," Olivia told him.

"Yeah well, with a Catholic upbringing …" he trailed off.

"What, Catholics can't ever get abortions?" she challenged him.

"According to the tenants of the faith, no," he informed her. "But you know, most Catholics are like me. We condone them in cases of incest of rape, so she could have received absolution."

"Is that what you're giving her? Absolution?" she was in his face now, voice shrill.

"It's not up to me; I'm not a priest," he told her. He didn't like having his faith challenged and he didn't like discussing abortion. He knew Liv was pro-choice and didn't subscribe to any religion. These arguments never went well between them.

"But you think abortion is permissible in cases of incest," she prodded.

"And rape. Incest and rape," he confirmed. He realized his mistake the moment it came out of his mouth. "No, wait, I mean …," he reached out to touch her arm but she shrugged him off.

"Fuck you, Stabler! That's why you won't charge her with murder. The victim was a product of rape and that makes her death okay to you." She began to storm off but he caught up with her in the hallway.

"That's not what I meant." He tried to formulate the words but his brain came up blank when faced with the fury in Olivia's eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and tears threatened to spill. She sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

"Don't try to justify this with your religious beliefs, Elliot. Either you're pro-choice, or you're not. Either a woman has free reign over her body, or she doesn't. You either believe abortion is murder or it isn't. Your brand of lukewarm bullshit singles out that baby because of how she was conceived."

Elliot flinched at her words, her tone, and at the raw hurt in her voice. "No, I mean, it's complicated."

She nodded. "I get it. It's a matter of worth. That baby wasn't worth a damn to Tess. Wasn't worth a damn to anybody. Even your priest would give bloody absolution for her termination." Olivia turned around, her shoulders sagging and staggered toward the hospital exit. She swiped angrily at her falling tears and sped up her steps.

"Olivia, wait!" Elliot ran up to her but she kept on going.

"Don't bother. I'm not worth it," she threw out.

He stared at her retreating back and ran his hands over his face, unable to follow her.


	3. Chapter 3

Olivia Benson was most definitely not herself. After walking out on Elliot in that waiting room, she needed some air, some space and distance from the case. From Tess. She knew she'd handled the interview very, very badly and it worried her that she could lose control over her emotions like that. Normally, she knew how to keep her anger in check, but by Tess' bedside, it had bubbled to the surface, a malodorous cauldron of childhood crap that had been buried within her for so long. She couldn't even remember a time when she didn't have emotional baggage to deal with, though she'd been an expert at hiding it at work, until today.

She raked her hand through her long shaggy bangs and continued walking, directionless, escaping from the hospital. Elliot had the car keys and he would surely stay at the hospital for some time, waiting for Tess to wake from surgery and then conduct a proper interview about her rape. Olivia swallowed the lump in her throat; guilt assuaged her as she thought back to her behavior in Tess' bedroom. _Damn!_ She hadn't realized that she'd actually uttered the word out loud until she noticed the odd looks from other pedestrians on the sidewalk. She tucked her head down and kept walking, counting the cracks on the sidewalk. _Step on a crack, break your mother's back_. The childhood rhyme popped into her head and she shuddered. She'd broken her mother alright. Her mere existence had broken her, turned her into a shell of her former self, and into a raging alcoholic. Olivia kept walking, oblivious to the warm June air, the sweet scent of blooming Crab-apple trees and the delicate breeze on her face. It was a gorgeous, cloudless spring day but Olivia inhabited her disturbing thoughts and dark memories, and they hung over her head like a small dark cloud, following her as she sped away from images of a dead baby girl, away from a tearful Tess, away from Elliot, but not away from the demons that chased her.

She walked for hours; she was thirsty and tired and her feet began to hurt but she was only somewhat aware of her physical state. Childhood recollections had been woken and were floating on the surface of her consciousness now, like filmy skin on boiled milk. She couldn't ignore them anymore. They begged to be remembered, to be removed. Serena's face came to her mind's eye, the sad dark eyes, downturned mouth, and long unkempt greying hair. She could still smell her breath, alcohol and cigarettes, menthols to cover the stench of booze. To this day, if Olivia even caught a whiff of menthol cigarettes, she gagged. Her mother also smelled like roses from her hand lotion, and cocoa butter from her shampoo. Tears welled in her eyes and she wiped them away. Serena, the woman, the contradiction, the enemy. Brilliant English professor, disorganized as hell, sarcastic, funny even, until she'd had too much to drink. Then funny became mean, and mean quickly morphed into violent. The stages of her mother's drunkenness were engrained in her from an early age. At times, Serena could be warm and loving, and so apologetic. Apologetic and sober meant dinners out, a new doll, and hugs and kisses. That never lasted. Olivia could by no means enjoy the tender moments because she never knew when her mother would turn into Mr. Hyde. To protect her injured little heart, she'd learned to keep her mother at a distance all the time, to never let herself get too dependent because it was just a matter of time until the frail bond would shatter again, and crush her spirit to smithereens.

Tiny preschooler Olivia had blamed herself for her mother's slaps and screams, and had taken to hiding underneath the bed, in the closet, outside the apartment even. She had no inkling that her mother wasn't like the other mothers, at least not until grade school. Then, she'd met other kids' mothers and been to their houses and wondered what she'd done to deserve the treatment Serena gave her. She instinctively knew there was something different about her, that she wasn't like the other little girls in her class. Sure, she may have looked like them with her dark braids in red bows, and her bellbottomed jeans. But upon closer inspection, one would see that the jeans were unwashed for too long, ketchup stains on the thighs, frayed at the hems, and the braided hair was greasy, with a crooked part in the back as only a seven year old could manage with a broken comb. Her little ribs showed too much, and her stomach growled in class. Olivia had learned to make herself invisible so the other wouldn't notice her oddness. Invisibility also kept her safe from Serena's unpredictable abuse. She knew from the second grade how to tiptoe quietly down a hallway, hold her breath for longer than a minute, conceal a sneeze or hiccup, and how to entertain herself for hours in a dark closet. By age eight, she could prepare a simple meal, boil hot dogs and make macaroni and cheese from a box. At nine, she knew where her mother's cash was, and she could walk across the street to the convenience store and buy packaged food. When she turned eleven, she became stealthy, hiding her mother's liquor bottles but the beating that followed taught her that self-preservation was the most important thing. At thirteen, when she got her first period and didn't know what to do, she turned to her seventh grade health teacher, Miss Whitman, instead of her mother. When her mother found the pads, she went into a rage. And that's when it all went to shit, or rather, more so, because her life was already a shitstorm. She could still recall her mother's expression upon finding the feminine hygiene products.

"Why do you have these?" her mother had asked, holding onto the bathroom doorframe for support. "Did you get your period, Olivia?"

Olivia had blushed furiously and made a run for it. When her mother swayed on her feet, it was time to hide.

"Answer me, goddammit!" Serena sounded hurt, offended even. She chased after Olivia and grabbed her by the waist before the girl had a chance to run down the fire escape outside her bedroom. "Why didn't you tell me? I'm your mother!" she screeched. Olivia clawed at her mother's hands and tried to disentangle them from her tummy. She'd nearly reached her full adult height by then, and was strong, despite being underfed and skinny.

"Let go of me, bitch!" she yelled at Serena. Vulgarity was commonplace in their home and Olivia was only repeating the words she heard on a regular basis.

Serena let go and sank back onto the threadbare, dirty carpet. Loud sobs began racking her body. Olivia turned around, stunned. Screaming, yelling, grabbing and hitting, she was used to. But seeing her mother cry left her dumbfounded. She sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her mother, unsure what to do next. While her instincts urged her to run down the fire escape after all, her curiosity and shock stilled her. "Mom?"

"Don't you get it? Don't you understand? You're a woman now. You're in danger, Olivia," she hissed.

"You're drunk, Mother."

"Am I?" Serena let out a loud, bitter laugh. "Of course I am. It's the only way to deal with this. . . with you. I can't stand the sight of you. You're the spitting image of him."

The young girl blanched at her mother's words. It wasn't the first time her mother had blamed her drinking on her daughter but she'd never mentioned a ' _him'_. Any questions Olivia had had about her father had been met with violence and anger. She knew not to ask anymore.

"Him?" she croaked.

"You have his eyes. I have to look into his eyes for the rest of my life because you're here. Don't you get that?" Serena's words slurred and she rushed out of the room to find her vodka. The bottle was already half empty, sitting on the kitchen counter. Serena grabbed it and hugged it against her, almost lovingly. Then, she took a deep swig and exhaled sharply as the liquid burned her throat. She repeated this several times. Her daughter stared at her in fear.

"Do you mean my father?" Liv finally asked, using every ounce of courage she possessed to pose the question.

"Father. Ha! Father, as if," she cackled. "You don't have a father, Olivia." Serena grabbed the counter's edge for support.

"What are you talking about? There had to be a man …"

"Not a man. A rapist." Serena delivered the deadly blow with deliberate viciousness. She took another gulp of her liquor and stared at her daughter, ignoring the girl's trembling hands and shocked expression.

"Abortion wasn't legal back then, and I never had the courage to do it myself. So, here you are, my constant reminder, tormenting me every single day." The slur in her speech increased, as did the weariness of her tone. She stared point blank at her daughter and stated calmly, "That's why I hate you, Olivia. You never should have been born." Serena downed the remainder of her vodka bottle, facing away from the eyes that tortured her so. "Make sure it doesn't happen to you," she added, a sad kernel of maternal advice for her pubescent daughter. "Just take care. Now, get out of my sight."

Olivia couldn't even remember where she'd gone after she'd found out about her true origins. Like now, she'd walked and walked for a long time. How had she gotten home? It was all a blur. She was lost now too and took in her surroundings with surprise. Where the hell was she? It was starting to get dark and the air had cooled significantly. She shivered and grabbed her phone out of her pocket. Three missed calls. She hadn't even heard them. Four texts from Elliot, and three voicemails.

 _Where are you? Are you okay? I'm sorry about earlier. Call me._

 _I finished the interview. We have a suspect. Going to see him now. Where are you, Liv?_

 _Novak told me to charge Tess with failure to obtain necessary assistance during childbirth and involuntary manslaughter. Girl was released to her mother._

 _Liv, you're off the case. Listen to your voicemail._

Olivia blinked at the texts, and wanted to cry. She dialed into her voicemail and listened to the first message from Elliot, which was basically a rehash of his texts but with more detail about how his interview with Tess had gone. Tess had named a young priest from her parish as her rapist. Olivia shook her head at the cliché. Novak was going to subpoena the priest's DNA and ask Warner to compare it to the dead baby's. Her partner also wondered where she was, said he was worried about her and to meet him back at the precinct.

The second voicemail was from her captain, telling her to return to work immediately and asking if she was okay.

The third voicemail, also from Cragen, a few hours later told her it was okay to take a backseat if she was having trouble with this case, and that she should speak to Huang about it. He ordered her to return his call as soon as she got it.

Olivia's hackles went up. Elliot, that sonofabitch had ratted her out. Now she had to have her head shrunk, and was kicked off the case. 'Damn you, Stabler', she thought. Olivia deleted all of the voicemails and shut off her phone. A million fire ants devoured her soul. The dead baby would receive no justice because nobody cared about her. The image of her pale, lifeless little body invaded Liv's memory as if to say, 'I was a victim too. Will you remember me?'

"Of course, I'll remember you baby girl," she sniffled. The tears that had pooled in her eyes now spilled over, the tiny stream on her face giving way to full waterworks. She was so tired, so sad, and so lost. She crouched down on the side of the street, pressed her leaking eyes into her palms and just cried and cried.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Dear reader, while this is not quite an M rating, it pushes the boundaries of T. Consider yourself warned. I may need to change the story's rating later._

Olivia arrived wordlessly at the precinct Monday morning, head down, and sat without greeting her co-workers. Her face betrayed no emotion. After her long, aimless walk and resurfaced memories, she had finally ambled home close to midnight on Saturday. Her poor sleep had been punctuated by nightmares about Serena, Tess, and the lifeless little baby. Darkness that had previously hung over her head like a cloud now engulfed her.

"Hey, you never called me back," Elliot said to her quietly. He got up from his seat and took the few steps over to her desk, then perched himself on the edge of it. "What happened to you?" he asked.

Olivia raised her eyes to his worried ones, her face unable to mask the exhaustion she felt. "I'm sorry I ran out on you. This case, it's stirring up some shit."

"Wanna talk about it?" Elliot waited for her to speak but she turned away from him and pretended to busy herself with the papers on her desk. "Fine, ignore me, but you need to talk to Cragen," he reminded her. "He left you messages. Did you get them?"

"I got them," she replied, sounding slightly annoyed now. "I got that I'm off the case. What did you say to him?"

Elliot understood that she was pissed; he'd gone behind her back but he knew she couldn't handle this case. If her handling of Tess was any indication, Olivia was way out of her element on this one. Or perhaps too much in her element, hence the shit being stirred up. He wasn't going to apologize. "I told him you were having trouble with the case."

"That's it? And he booted me off, just like that?" Olivia shook her head and widened her eyes in disbelief.

"No, I also told him you walked out before the interview, that you tried to arrest Tess before she received medical attention, and that you had become very emotional," he added. "You weren't being objective, Olivia."

"You …you had no right!" she hissed. Her colleagues' heads bobbed up at the rise in her voice. Fin glanced over at them and said something to Munch. They both nodded. The scrutiny was too much. Olivia bolted from her desk and ran to the ladies' room.

Elliot groaned in frustration and returned to his desk. He didn't know how to talk to her when her hackles were up like this. While accustomed to Olivia running out on him, and putting up major walls, he had no clue how to reach her. After almost eight years together, he still hadn't figured her out. Fin watched him, then crossed the aisle between their desks.

"You piss her off?" he accused. "Wasn't enough that you got her kicked off the case?" Fin was Olivia's replacement on the Tess Morgan investigation and he wasn't thrilled about it, given his feelings about Elliot in general. He also didn't want Olivia to think he was usurping her right to work her own case.

"It was for her own good," Elliot said. "She was really upset yesterday. You didn't see the way she lay into Tess, Fin. Never saw her go rogue on a victim before."

"So what? You couldn't just talk to her? You had to go behind her back?"

"I didn't go behind her back. Cragen wanted to know where she was. And, I was worried about her. So lay off."

"Hmf," was Fin's only reply.

In the bathroom, Olivia stared at her reflection. She'd applied extra makeup this morning, an extra few strokes of black eyeliner, an extra coat of mascara, and some blush. Despite the effort, she looked drawn.

 _That's why I hate you, Olivia._

Serena's words kept echoing in her head. She grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut, unable to look at herself.

 _You never should have been born_.

Olivia's eyes popped open, and felt her mother's hatred, internalized it. She pointed at the mirror accusingly. "You're a mistake," she told her image. And she felt like one. On this case. On all the cases where she'd failed a victim. No wonder Elliot didn't want to work with her now.

"Hi Olivia," Casey Novak walked into the ladies' room startling Olivia. "Sorry, didn't mean to make you jump." The tall ADA could see that her friend was upset. She walked over to her and stood beside her at the aging sinks, both women now looking at themselves in the glass, standing together. "Everything okay?" Casey asked.

 _Olivia in the mirror_ looked at _Casey in the mirror_. She opened her mouth to speak, paused, then tried again. "You only charged Tess Morgan with failure to obtain assistance during delivery?" That one didn't sit well with her.

Casey nodded. "And involuntary manslaughter. But …"

"But what?"

"Her lawyer wants to plead her out and drop the manslaughter charge. Tess would plead guilty to the first charge and get probation, maybe some counselling," Casey explained.

Olivia turned to stare at Casey. "And you're okay with that?"

"Olivia, if I've learned anything about rape victims during my time with SVU, it's that they shouldn't be devastated all over again. I want to get the bastard who raped her. She was a minor at the time, and he abused his power as a priest. Once the DNA results are in, I want him arrested. That's the real crime here, the rape of a child by a priest. I came here today to get more details from Elliot."

"What about the baby?" Olivia asked.

"It's tragic about the baby, but I doubt I'd get a conviction, and I don't like to prosecute cases I can't win. Tess Morgan's lawyer said he'd argue that her shock at being raped and subsequent denial about the pregnancy point to an unstable mental state. He's using the insanity defense if this goes to trail." Casey sighed. "Olivia, I don't want to traumatize that girl any more than she already has been." She looked into her friend's unhappy dark eyes and put her hand on her shoulder. "Remember what you've taught me, Olivia. You've shown me over and over again how to support rape victims. You can help Tess by arresting her rapist. I blame him for the pregnancy and subsequent fallout. I'm going to make sure his ass is in jail for the rest of his life!"

Olivia felt herself shrink beneath Casey's sincere gaze. _Subsequent fallout?_ Did that refer to infanticide? She shrugged and turned to face the mirror again. Her own image disgusted her so she turned back to face Casey. "Tell Elliot and Fin when to pick him up. I'm off the case."

Casey opened her mouth in surprise and was about to speak, but Olivia walked out of the bathroom and back into the bullpen. Fin was standing at Elliot's desk and the men were arguing. As Liv approached, they went quiet. She knew they'd been talking about her.

"Cragen wants to see you," Elliot informed her, pointing to the office. He conveyed empathy and encouragement with his deep blue eyes. She held his gaze for a heartbeat, and nodded at him in acknowledgement.

Olivia knocked at the Captain's door and entered at his bidding. He sought her eyes, but she couldn't handle seeing his displeasure. She sat in the hard chair across from his desk. "I know I'm off the case," she told him, hoping her assumption of responsibility would keep him from chewing her out. "And I know I messed up with Tess. I'm sorry." There, better to assume blame than wait for it to be assigned to her.

Don studied her for a moment, concerned about her subdued demeanor. He cared about her so damned much, more than a captain should care about one of his detectives. Olivia was like the daughter he'd never had, and he felt a paternal affection for her that exceeded the bounds of duty. The childless widower and fatherless woman had been drawn to each other and filled each other's familial void. They had a special relationship, but that didn't mean that he could let certain behaviors go unnoticed. "Olivia, I can see why this case would be hard for you. Given the circumstances of the victim's conception and the nature of the crime, it makes sense that you lost objectivity."

Olivia glanced up at him, noting the worry in his eyes. He was calm and kind, and she was grateful for that. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She'd disappointed him and now felt about two inches tall.

"You ought to know that Mrs. Morgan wanted to launch a formal complaint against you, for harassment of her daughter. Casey talked her out of it by considering the plea deal."

"Damn. Sorry Captain." Olivia felt so ashamed. "So that's why she's considering the plea? To cover my ass?"

"Well that and she doesn't want to re-traumatize the girl," Cragen said. "However, I do need you off this case. And …"

"And?" Olivia's head shot up. The warning tone in her captain's voice was ominous.

"You're on desk duty until you're cleared by Huang. I'm sorry, Olivia, but I can't let you conduct interviews right now. Not until you're in a better head space."

Olivia hated being on desk duty. It was a punishment akin to school detention. She remembered when Jeffries had been chained to her desk after a psych eval. She'd been itching to get out, interview witnesses, catch perps, and do her job. Sitting at a desk was torture. Doing nothing but filling out forms while the other detectives did the real work taking down criminals. Talk about feeling useless.

"I'll need your gun," he told her, interrupting her thoughts. "You can help Munch with his backlog of paperwork. I'm temporarily assigning Fin to help Elliot. Make an appointment with Huang within the next few days, okay?"

"Yes, Captain." She placed her gun on his desk.

"You're dismissed," he told her, not unkindly. Olivia stood up. She felt numb, detached somehow, and rather defenseless without her sidearm.

* * *

After hours of boring paperwork and watching while Elliot and Fin took the lead on the Morgan case, Olivia desperately needed to escape the 1-6. Her ass was practically falling asleep from sitting for so long. Munch's jokes and attempts at cheering her grated on her nerves, as did Elliot's pointless apologies. The only person she felt like talking to today was Fin. She knew he felt badly about taking over the case and he'd keep her apprised of all their progress. So far, Warner had informed the detectives that the priest's DNA matched the dead baby's. Elliot and Fin were headed out now to pick him up for rape. Olivia desperately wanted accompany them and arrest the scumbag in person. If putting him in jail was the only justice that baby would receive, then she wanted to be one to dispense it. She sighed and glanced over at her colleagues' empty desks. She loathed desk duty.

"Here, this pile's done," Olivia plopped a thick stack of papers on Munch's desk. "It's been a long day, John."

"Thanks! You work fast." The dark smudges beneath Olivia's eyes hadn't escaped Munch's notice. "I've got the rest if you want to go home."

She rewarded him with a small smile, a mere fraction of the generous beautiful smile she was capable of. Olivia's full smile was so rare and fleeting; it lit up the room and made men lose their shit around her. He loved her smile and was sad to see how weak and pathetic the upturn of her lips was now. "You'll be back on regular duty in no time," he assured her.

"Yeah, we'll see. Good night, John."

"Good night, Liv."

* * *

She didn't want to go home to face an empty apartment and her own gloomy thoughts. Instead, she headed to _The Frog and the Firkin_ , not _Maloney's_. She didn't want to be at a cop bar; this anonymity suited her mood much better. Olivia sat at the bar and downed more than a few Whisky Sours. The bartender put a glass of white wine in front of her.

"I didn't order that," she told him.

"It's from the gentleman at the end of the bar. You want it?"

The haze of too many Whisky Sours made her head spin when she turned to see who had sent the wine. The sender raised his hand in greeting and nodded at her, appreciatively. "Yeah, I'll take it," she told the bartender. She took a sip of the white wine, an invitation for the man down the bar to approach her. He was a very good looking man, early fifties, tall with slightly greying blond hair, a deep dimple in his left cheek, and clear blue eyes. She was a sucker for blue eyes. And she liked older men. She'd always liked older men, even back when she was in high school and dating one of her mother's college students, Mark. This man reminded her of Mark. She smiled at him, still not a full on _Olivia smile_ , but better than the one she'd given Munch. It was enough though. The tall blond man smiled back at her and came to stand behind her barstool.

"I'm not going to use a line on you because I can tell you're much too intelligent for that," he said.

Olivia tried not to roll her eyes at him. "Thanks for the wine." She held her glass up to his red wine glass and clinked.

"You're welcome. I'm Max, by the way." The man paused and waited a beat. "And you are …?"

"Olivia. Nice to meet you, Max." They shook hands and he gestured to a table. She stood up and followed him. They sat down together.

"So, Olivia, I have to tell you something you've probably heard a million times already in your life."

"Oh?" she swirled the wine around in her glass and took another sip

"You're one of the most extraordinarily gorgeous creatures I've ever seen in my life. I literally can't take my eyes off of you." He gazed at her intently, studying every part of her face, lingering on her full lips.

She wanted to scoff at his ridiculous _line-that-wasn't-supposed-to-be-a_ - _line_ , but she was enjoying the positive attention. It made her feel better than she'd felt in the precinct's ladies' room that morning. And she needed a boost to her morale. The alcohol quieted her mother's voice in her head, and she wasn't thinking about desk duty or Tess' dead baby. She was basking in the praise of Mr. Dimple here, shallow as it was.

"Oh please, I bet you say that to all the pretty ladies," she said coyly from beneath darkened lashes.

"No, I don't. Really. You're exceptional." He took a sip of his wine, then smiled at her, making his sexy dimple show. He appeared to be without guile, but then again maybe it was the blue eyes doing a number on her. Her stomach did a little flip when he gazed into her eyes. "Do you want to get a menu?" he asked. "Or maybe eat somewhere a bit fancier?"

"So are my two options to either have dinner with you here, or have dinner with you elsewhere?" Olivia asked with a smile. She was getting a bit peckish and all of those Whisky Sours on an empty stomach made her lightheaded.

"Or we could have dinner back at my hotel," he suggested. He put his large hand over her slim one and squeezed the fingertips.

Olivia wasn't surprised at his quick advance, but she pulled her fingers away. She felt the heat between them and his offer sounded enticing. The way he was looking at her made her feel attractive, desirable, wanted. It'd been quite a long time since she'd managed a date. Certainly not since Elliot had started having serious problems in his marriage. She knew that he and Kathy were on the verge of legally separating, as soon as he could find an affordable apartment in Manhattan. As if. He'd probably stay with her forever. But for the first time, upon hearing about his marital troubles, she'd felt a glimmer of hope, followed by a huge wallop of guilt for feeling any hope in the first place. Her best friend and partner was suffering. And right now, she was still harboring some residual resentment toward him for getting her kicked off the case.

"Hey, are you with me Olivia?" Dimples asked her.

"Yes. How about a quick bite here?"

He tried to touch her hand again. This guy wanted to pick her up. Olivia, however just wanted some positive attention and a meal. She hadn't had sex in a long time. Had she even had sex in the last twelve months? No, it'd been longer, maybe even closer to two years. She didn't want to go that far tonight, but merely sitting at this table with a handsome stranger was making her feel better. That and the delicious wine he offered her. She ate and drank, not realizing that he kept refilling her glass. Olivia drank five glasses of wine, thinking she'd only had two.

They leisurely ate their pub meal. Max told her about his business; he was a commercial real estate developer trying to break into Manhattan from Delaware. He was just visiting New York. Even better, Olivia thought, for she wouldn't have to deal with him trying to date her after this impromptu dinner. She could lose herself in his dimple and blue eyes, large hands, and tall, masculine body. He was sexy and he knew it, and he'd singled her out. Of all the women in the bar, he'd sent the wine to her. She felt wanted. The mere fact of being desired acted like an aphrodisiac on her, and she could feel herself becoming aroused by their flirty banter.

"How long are you in New York?" she asked.

"Just two days. I'm staying at the Novotel, gorgeous room, King sized bed, room service, and a view of the city," he told her. "It's only missing one thing."

She took the bait. "Oh, what's that?"

"The company of a beautiful woman."

Olivia allowed the compliment to wash over her, and smiled her full on smile. Max was attentive and kept piling on the praise, and the wine.

His flattering words dispelled the darkness that'd been following Olivia for the past two days. Max really did remind her of Mark, her first real boyfriend. Mark had also had blond hair and blue eyes, and he'd been so tall that she'd only come up to his shoulder. They'd loved each other deeply, but her mother had destroyed the relationship, and along with it, Olivia's only chance to escape the abusive home while still a minor. Mark had been like a beam of bright sunshine in an otherwise dark existence.

"Hey, are you okay?" Max asked her. "You look like you're a million miles away."

He lightly trailed his fingers along her forearm and looked at her with concern. Olivia locked eyes with him, storing the brightness he provided right now. She'd been falling into an abyss of darkness since finding Tess' baby. Now, she stared into Mark's, no Max's dreamy blue eyes and felt herself held there like a moth to a flame.

Olivia nodded and the mere movement of her head made her dizzy. She'd had way too much to drink.

"How about dessert?" he asked, his double entendre clear.

"No thanks," she slurred. "I need to get going." She blinked confusedly at the man beside her. Mark? What was Mark doing here? "Mark?"

"Max," he corrected. "Wow, you've had a few too many. You need to lie down." Max stood up and pulled out Olivia's chair. He gave her his hand as she stood, all wobbly and unsure. She appreciated his gallant gesture and was grateful when he caught her as she slumped against him. Conscious thought seeped out of her brain as instinct took over. The basic need to be loved and accepted was fueling her now. That, and the lengthy dry spell preceding it. She needed Mark. Mark would help her forget the pain and rejection that had defined her very existence since conception. Blindly, she followed the stranger and let herself be led.

They were in his hotel room, a lovely suite with the King sized bed Max had told her about. Olivia didn't think, she reacted. She responded to the deep timbre of his voice, his warm, strong hands and the pure blue eyes. When he kissed her, she lost herself in the sensations and wrapped herself around him for support. He unbuttoned her blouse and flung it to the floor. Olivia felt drunk on passion, and too much alcohol. Somehow Max had gradually morphed into Mark as the evening wore on, and she was now convinced that she was with the lover of her youth.

"Oh Mark," she moaned when he palmed her breasts.

Max was about to correct her again but didn't want to lose the momentum. This woman was putty in his hands. He removed her garments one by one, tossing them in a small heap. When she collapsed against him, clad only in her panties, he shucked off his own clothes quickly and practically carried her to the bed. God, she was beautiful, much more beautiful than his wife back in Delaware. His pale wife was overweight and menopausal, with acne. Olivia was perfect, svelte, toned and dark with large firm breasts. He loved darker skin and eyes on a woman, and her almond eyes entranced him. So what if she thought he was some guy named Mark? He liked that she was totally wasted and uncoordinated. He'd made sure to keep refilling her glass when she was looking away. It was better this way. She was receptive and warm, drowsy and confused. This pickup was the best one he'd managed in a long time. Never, ever, had he scored such a gorgeous woman in his bed.

They lay on the bed together, he touching, but she not reciprocating. His hands and mouth explored her breasts, neck, shoulders and belly. He trailed kisses down her abdomen to the elastic of her underwear and she wriggled beneath him. Gently, he pulled them down and admired her nude body.

"You are so perfect," he whispered to her as he parted her long legs, running his hand up her thighs to the juncture between her legs. He tangled his fingers in the dark curls there, teasing her until she was gasping. The sensation startled her and she responded.

"Mark, Mark," she begged. She parted her legs wide and pressed his hand against her sex. Max certainly didn't need any more invitation than that. He started playing with her until he found the spot that made her cry out. She was close now, her breathing and heart rate had accelerated and he wanted to be inside of her. "Make me forget, make me forget, Mark. . . I need you inside of me, now," Olivia pleaded. She was ready to explode from the fingering alone. But she needed more, needed him to fill the emptiness inside and forget. Mark always filled her emptiness with his love, and for those precious moments she could lose herself in the ecstasy and forget Serena's cruelty.

"She shouldn't break us up! We can do what we want," Olivia cried out.

Max realized in dismay that he didn't have a condom. He was clean and wanted reassurances from his new partner. "You don't have any STD's do you?" he asked, point blank.

Semi-stunned out of her drunken, erotic reverie, Olivia opened her eyes and gasped. "What?"

"Can I go in bare?" he asked her, gently this time afraid the charade would wear off and she'd realize who he was. She seemed a bit hesitant and more alert, so he played along with her fantasy. "You know I love you, baby. I'm clean. Are you?"

"Yes, yes baby, come inside of me," she urged, while grabbing his upper arms and squeezing his biceps. Her eyes were hazy from drunkenness and arousal.

He entered her before she could change her mind or realize that he wasn't Mark. A part of him felt somewhat guilty about the deception, but he was so horny for her and she obviously wanted him badly. She was wet and hot around him but midway through his thrusting, she stopped moving.

"What the hell?" Olivia gasped. Max's hard thrusts were rougher than she liked and the pain between her legs alerted her that something was wrong. Mark's lovemaking had always been gentle. This didn't feel right. She tried to sit up but Max pushed her down; he was so close now.

"I'm almost done, baby. . almost done." He was sweating from the exertion and he just wanted to finish, but he sensed a shift from the woman trapped beneath him.

"You're not Mark," she cried. "Get off of me. No!" Olivia came to just as Max emptied himself into her. She pushed hard at him, feeling disoriented and angry.

"Oooh, uuugh, aaaah," Max grunted as an orgasm tore through his body. He rolled over and out of her, gasping for breath. "That was amazing, baby."

Olivia stared at him, wide-eyed. "You're not Mark," she whispered. She felt confused because the excess consumption of alcohol was playing tricks on her memory.

"No, I'm Max, remember? We met at the pub and you followed me here?"

"I've got to get outta here," she cried, panic starting to dispel her boozy fog. "I never meant to have sex with a stranger," she gasped. She turned over to the side of the bed and vomited.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N. Hello gentle reader. Here is my next installation of Worth. So, I can post shorter, more frequent updates, or longer, less frequent updates. This is a busy time of year work wise, and my house is being renovated. So, I write when I can, usually after kiddie bedtime, or on my day off. I'm trying here. Voila, a shorter update until my computer and I can meet again._

"Oh my god, are you okay?" Max went over to help Olivia, careful not to step in the vomit that had landed partly on the bed, on the floor, and on Olivia herself.

"Don't touch me," she warned him. She pulled the bed sheet around herself and sat up. The effort made her feel dizzy.

"Don't worry, I'll call housekeeping," he said, completely oblivious to her mental state. "You've, uh, got some sick in your hair. Why don't you take a shower while the maid comes, huh? You'll feel better. Here, I can help you."

"I don't need your help." Olivia wanted to cry, she really, really did, but the shock of what she'd just done stunned her. How could she have been stupid enough to think that Max was Mark? Drunk, delusional and disgusting, with vomit in her hair. She ripped the bed sheet off the bed, wrapped it around her and ran into the bathroom.

"Olivia, are you okay?" Max knocked at the locked bathroom door. He hadn't expected this much drama from a one night stand. He liked Olivia, and had certainly enjoyed the sex, but part of him wondered if it had been worth the effort. The woman was freaked out, in his bathroom, and there was barf on the floor.

"Go away," she cried. She turned on the shower and got under the hot stream, vigorously lathering the vomit out of her hair. She then dispensed a very generous amount of hotel issue shower gel onto a face cloth and began scrubbing her skin. Max's mouth had been on her breasts, and the thought made her gag. She washed them over and over again, then moved onto her vulva, cleaning it rigorously until it was raw and sore. She stayed under the water for a long time, still numb, still intoxicated. Shame seeped into her skin, through the places where Max had touched her. It was visceral, and no matter how much she scoured the soapy cloth over her body, shame did not wash off.

Max began knocking on the bathroom door again. He yelled so she could hear him, "You've been in there a long time. The maid already came and went. Do you need help? Are you alright? Should I call someone for you?" His queries were met with only the sound of the shower running. Olivia had been in there for over half an hour now, closer to forty five minutes. He was getting worried. "Olivia?" No answer. He was contemplating what to do next when he heard a cell phone go off, not his. He followed the sound to Olivia's jacket and pulled it out. The Caller ID said 'Tutuola'. Max's panic combined with the phone's insistent ring pushed him to answer it. Maybe this Tutuola person was one of Olivia's friends and could help.

"Hello, Olivia's phone," he answered into the device, trying to sound confident but failing.

"Who the hell are you?" Fin replied, instantly on alert. "Why are you answering Liv's phone?"

"Oh, heh heh, it's okay, I'm with Olivia and she can't come to her phone right now. Who is this?"

" _Who is this?_ Are you kidding me, man?" Why'd you answer her phone? Tell me who _you_ are?"

"My name is Max. I'm her…uh…date tonight. Are you a friend of hers? Because she needs a friend to come pick her up. She's not feeling well and …"

"Where is she?" Fin's heart began pounding in his chest. Olivia would never let her phone out for some so-called date to answer it.

"We're at the Novotel, room 873. She, uh, had a bit too much to drink and was sick. Can you pick her up?"

Fin's eyes popped open in surprise. A hotel room? Olivia drunk? He was on his way within seconds, rushing as he went. Twenty minutes later, he arrived at Max's hotel room and banged on the door. "Open up!" Fin was tempted to say 'police', but this was a personal matter.

A tall middle-aged, blond man opened the door. Fin pushed past him. "Where is she?"

"In…in….in…th… the bathroom," Max stammered. Olivia's friend looked tough. And angry.

"Olivia, it's Fin!" Fin pounded on the bathroom door. Not hearing anything, he rammed it open with his shoulder. The small hotel lock easily gave way and Fin went flying into the bathroom. Max attempted to follow him but Fin warned him to stay back. The shower was still running. "Hey, Liv?" he asked through the curtain.

"Oh my god, what are _you_ doing here?" Olivia was crouched on her haunches beneath the now cold spray. Hearing Fin enter the bathroom sent her into a second wave of panic.

"Your date answered your phone. Says you were sick, so I came." Fin grabbed a fluffy white towel and held it up against the curtain. "Yo, here's a towel. Can you grab it?"

"Go away, Fin. Just leave!" his presence was the tipping point to her humiliating evening. She burst into tears, gasping and sobbing, wishing she could simply vanish. Fin? Of all people, Fin? Better than Elliot, she supposed. Still, a colleague showing up here, now was mortifying. Her private life was just that, private.

"Nuh uh, I ain't leaving. No way. Take the damned towel, Liv." Fin was unnerved by the sound of Olivia crying, and he wasn't about to leave her now. He pushed the towel through an opening in the curtain but she didn't grab it. "If you don't take this and get outta there …"he trailed off, unsure what he'd do. "Are you feeling sick? Did this date of yours hurt you? What the hell's going on?" He felt a tug on the bath sheet and heard the water go off.

"I wanna go home," Olivia sniffled. She wrapped the towel around herself, shivering. "Can you bring me my clothes? They're in the bedroom." God, she was so embarrassed now.

If Fin was shocked, he didn't say anything. He pushed past Max and stared him down the way he would a perp. "What'd you do to her?" he asked, as he located the clothes on the floor.

"Nothing. She was my date. I mean, obviously, we, er, we, were together," Max admitted fearfully. Though Fin was quite a bit shorter than he, the intimidating body language made him nervous. "She got sick after drinking too much. I already explained this to you over the phone."

Fin shook his head, his cop instincts telling him the man wasn't being completely forthright. "Man, I swear, if you hurt her, I'll hunt you down. You know she's a cop?"

"What?" Max jumped back in alarm and pushed his hair back. "She never said anything." Max thought back to their dinner at the pub. Olivia had peppered him with questions about himself, and he'd talked and talked, bragging about his real estate developments. Come to think of it, she hadn't said a word about herself. He was only realizing that now. His heart rate accelerated and he went to sit on the edge of the bed. A cop? Shit. What if she had misinterpreted anything that had happened between them? Maybe he shouldn't have let her believe he was Mark.

Fin tapped at the bathroom door, eyes trained on the nearly hyperventilating man across the room. "I got your clothes for ya," he told Liv in a gentle voice. She opened the door a few inches and grabbed them out of his hand, embarrassed that he had been holding her bra and panties. How was she ever going to live this down? She hurriedly threw on her clothing and towel dried her hair, then raked her fingers through it. She was a mess. Her makeup had washed off and her eyes were bloodshot. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she exited the bathroom. Fin was standing in front of the door waiting for her.

"Hey, you a'right?" he asked her.

She nodded.

"Well, goodbye Olivia. I'm sorry you aren't feeling well," Max told her. His impeccable manners and dimpled smile reappeared tenfold. He gazed at her with sincere blue eyes and slowly approached her. She balked and backed into Fin. Fin's eyes narrowed but he stayed behind Liv, a strong, solid presence.

"You, you, should have told me…" Olivia began, then faltered. Fin was standing right there, glued to her back. She wanted so badly to yell at Max for letting her think he was Mark and taking advantage of her intoxication. And for not stopping at the end when she told him to. She shook her head to scatter the memory. How could she say any of those things in front of Fin? She'd told Max 'no' upon realizing he wasn't Mark. But Max had continued having sex with her until the very end. How long was that, she wondered? A minute, thirty seconds? Did it matter? With her SVU detective training, she could dissect the incident and find Max guilty of much worse than poor judgement. But she couldn't go there, absolutely not. Because if Olivia went there, she'd turn into her mother, and she couldn't, wouldn't do that. No way.

In fact, Olivia felt guilty about the evening. She'd let her guard down, had much too much to drink, and stupidly followed Max back to his hotel room. She'd given him green lights all the way, and hadn't pushed him off until the very, very end. Her actions had led to the events of the evening.

"I should have told you what?" Max probed. He tried to catch her eyes but she wouldn't look at him. Above all, he had to appear oblivious. Innocent. Above reproach. He knew exactly what she was referring to, but he faked being confident, whereas she could not hide her shame. He won.

"Nothing, it's nothing," she said. "Let's go, Fin." She turned to look at her friend, noting the concern in his eyes.

"You sure?" Fin asked. "We done here?" He didn't want to push her, but he felt unsettled.

Olivia walked over to the door and opened it. She held it open for Fin. "Yeah, we're done. Take me home."

 _Ok, short update. More to come when I'm able. Reviews motivate me. Will Olivia continue to live in denial? Will her issues with her mother come to the forefront? Will Fin let a sleeping dog lie? Will Elliot find out? (cackles evilly)_


	6. Chapter 6

The ride back to her apartment was quiet. Too quiet. Each time Fin tried to speak with her, Olivia shut him down. She looked out the window, unseeing, lost in her own turbulent thoughts. Silently, she berated herself for sleeping with Max, unsettled by the events of the evening. Her head still swam in a concoction of too many Whisky Sours and white wine, and she could taste bile from having vomited earlier. Her privates hurt from Max's rough thrusts as well as the thorough scrubbing she'd given herself in the shower. At that moment, sitting in Fin's car, staring at the buildings flying by, Olivia wished she could simply cease to be and stop the agonizing throb of her heart.

Fin brought the car up to Olivia's building. He waited a moment but she wasn't reacting, unaware that he'd even parked the car. He tapped her lightly on the shoulder, causing her to jump.

"Sorry. Liv, what's wrong?" No answer.

Fin tried again. "C'mon, let's get you upstairs." He exited the car and walked around, then opened her door. "You coming?" She blinked up at him as though surprised to see him suddenly standing there. In what felt like slow motion, she unbuckled her seat belt and uncrumpled herself from the seat. She stood beside Fin and allowed him to lead her by the elbow, up the flights of stairs to her apartment.

"D'you want me to stay a bit?" he asked.

She shrugged, and he took it as a yes. He turned her apartment lights on and headed into her tiny kitchen. "Here, you don't want your hangover to kill ya tomorrow. Take this." Fin poured her a large glass of water and found two aspirin. "You gotta drink lots of water and flush that booze out of your system, 'kay?"

Olivia numbly followed him and swallowed the two pills, then chased them down with the water.

"I should go to bed," she said. "It's late and we've got work tomorrow." She sighed at the thought of Munch's mounds of paperwork awaiting her.

"Nah, call in sick," he told her. "You're gonna have one hell of a hangover in the morning."

She scoffed. "I never call in sick."

"I know, but sometimes you need to." He paused for a moment and followed her to the sofa, where she collapsed in exhaustion. She hid her face in her hands and sniffled. He sat beside her. "How drunk were you, Liv?"

She lifted her head and peered at him through half closed eyes. "What difference does it make?"

Fin was a direct sort of guy, not one to beat around the bush. "'Cause if you had too much drink, you probably shouldn't have been having sex with some dude you just met."

"Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed. Fin, you _can't_ tell anybody what happened tonight. Please," she pleaded. "I only slept with him _because_ I was so drunk. I never would have …", she stopped suddenly, mid-sentence. This conversation was getting too personal, too dangerous.

"What are you saying? You saying you were too drunk to consent?" he spat out.

Olivia's eyes widened in horror. This line of questioning would get her into trouble and force her to deal with demons that she simply could not face.

"No," she replied, as evenly as possible. "I didn't pass out or anything."

"Hmf, that's not saying much, Liv. So I'm gonna ask you again. Were you too drunk to consent to sex with this guy? Did he take advantage of you?"

"I can't believe you're asking me that," she volleyed back in defense.

"I can't believe I have to ask you that," he retorted. "You, of all people!"

"Me of all people? Why, because I'm a detective? Because I work in sex crimes?"

"Well, yeah!" Fin nodded his head vigorously. "And because the Olivia Benson I know…"

Olivia cut him off. " _Because the Olivia Benson you know_ is really fucked up, Fin. You have no idea how much."

"Wanna tell me?" He leaned in toward her, head low and non-threatening.

She was so tired, so intoxicated and very much in need of a friend. She took a deep breath, faced him squarely and unburdened herself. She told him how she felt about the case, the dead baby, Tess, being kicked off the case, and how strong memories of her mother were resurfacing. Alcohol loosened her lips, allowing her to get it off her chest. When she was done, she sat back and closed her eyes.

He said nothing at first, merely studied her. "God, Liv, you really are fucked up. I mean that stuff with your mom and the way you found out about her rape. Brutal."

"No kidding."

"You know you can talk to me any time. A'right?" He gave her a small smile of encouragement. "And you know who else should know about this stuff?"

"Nobody," she said. "Though I do have to talk to Huang to be cleared. If I tell him what I just told you, not only won't he clear me, he'll probably have me committed."

"He won't, Liv. He won't. But isn't there one other person you wanna share this stuff with?"

"No."

"You can't keep him in the dark like that. He's your partner."

"Don't push me, Fin," she warned him, dark eyes flashing.

Fin sighed loudly and stood up, knowing that Olivia wasn't going to say any more. "I won't push, but I still think you oughta talk to him."

Olivia heaved herself off the couch and followed Fin to the front door. "I can't talk to Elliot about this. He's got enough on his plate right now. His marriage is falling apart, and he needs a partner who's got his back. Not one who's having a nervous breakdown."

"You're not having a nervous breakdown," he reassured her. "You're just being confronted with lots of crap from your past because of this case. It's always been there, but maybe now you can't ignore it anymore." Fin looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing. "Trying to shut it all out is why you got so drunk tonight. And _that_ was real stupid. Led you straight to have drunken sex with a stranger."

"Please don't go there, Fin." On that subject, Olivia was closed. She grasped his wrist and pleaded with her eyes. "I need you to forget tonight ever happened. Please."

Fin shook his head. "I'm not gonna forget."

"Fin!"

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna say anything. Sheesh. But I am keeping an eye on you, okay? And you gotta talk to Huang, soon. Call in sick tomorrow and get some rest."

"Fine. Good night, and Fin?"

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you call me earlier?"

"To update you about the case. We collared the priest. He's spending the night in the tombs. No bail hearing until tomorrow. Thought you'd wanna know that."

"Good. And thanks for listening and not judging me. I appreciate that."

"Any time, baby girl. Any time at all."

* * *

The next morning, Olivia woke up with a wicked hangover. Her dry eyelids scraped over bloodshot eyes, and her furry tongue felt two sizes too big for her mouth. She sat up in bed slowly, as to not aggravate the pounding in her head. It was past ten already, so she'd slept off the booze. The night before, she'd left Cragen a quick voicemail saying she was ill, but she worried he might think she was skipping work out of resentment for being placed on desk duty. After gulping down the large glass of water by her bedside, she headed into the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker. Drip, drip, drip, the percolating coffee sounded like hammer strikes, making her wince. She popped some Advil and headed into the bathroom for a restorative shower. She still felt dirty and ashamed from her night with Max, and once again began to scrub and scour her skin in all the spots where he'd touched her. The water was a bit too hot and the pressure she applied to the washcloth too harsh. She winced in pain as she scrubbed her privates. As an SVU detective, Olivia knew her reaction was textbook after a violation, but she swiftly stuffed the offending thought in the back of her mind, along with her painful childhood memories. It was getting harder and harder to force a lid on feelings she couldn't face, and the effort began to take its toll on her.

After a lengthy shower, she quickly dressed and gulped her coffee. The Advil was starting to work and her headache subsided to a dull thud. It was close to eleven thirty now, and she couldn't bear an entire day at home with nothing to do but think about her encounter with Max. She decided to go into work and find out what was happening with the priest's bail hearing. She wanted him to pay for raping Tess and causing an innocent baby to be murdered. There was work to do, and as long as Olivia sought justice for others, she didn't have to think about her own problems.

* * *

At the precinct, Elliot and Fin were returning from court. The priest's bail hearing had been set for nine that morning and he'd been released on bail, paid by the church. It had made Elliot's stomach churn, knowing that Father Shannon would in all likelihood continue his daily activities. His only sense of reassurance came from the fact that it was already June and school was out for the year. At least the priest wouldn't be interacting with the girls from Sorrowful Virgin over the summer. He sat at his desk, and rubbed his tired eyes. It wasn't even lunch time, and already he felt the day dragging. Didn't help that he and Kathy had gotten into it yet again that morning. She kept asking him when he planned on moving out, saying she didn't want him living on her living room sofa any longer. Then she'd reamed into him about leaving his dirty socks on the floor and how she sure as hell wasn't going to do his laundry. She wanted him out, all the way out, not in a half-assed state of semi-separation where he worked all day, then came home after she was in bed.

Most nights, he made sure to come home after ten. He no longer had dinner with his family, which at this point consisted of the twins and Kathy because the older girls had moved out some time ago. Instead, he ate cold leftovers in the dark kitchen, _if_ there were any leftovers. Kathy certainly didn't go out of her way to make enough food for four. Many times, he just stopped for fast food and ate it in the car, counting down until he could go home. Except it wasn't his home anymore. He was an intruder in his own house; the house for which he'd paid a mortgage and worked bloody hard at renovating. All the paint, his work. The crown moulding in the living room, his. The new stainless steel fridge, paid for with his Christmas bonus last year. Despite his mark on the house, he no longer felt welcome in it. And frankly, he didn't want to be there if he wasn't wanted. He'd checked on rents in the area near the precinct and been shocked at the quotes he'd received. Looking a bit further east, the prices had dropped slightly but as they did, so did the quality of the apartments and the neighborhoods. The only reasonable quote he'd gotten came from a place on the Lower East Side, but it was crap, and too far from the 1-6. So, Elliot returned to his house night after night, avoiding his wife, feeling guilty about not seeing his twins, and sleeping uncomfortably on a lumpy sofa. He'd wanted to stay in Maureen's old room, but Kathy hadn't let him, saying he'd never leave if he got comfortable. If anything, she was doing her utmost to make him uncomfortable and unwanted.

Elliot sighed and stood up to get some battery acid coffee. "When did you make this pot?" he asked Munch.

"I don't know, maybe four hours ago?" the lanky detective replied. "It's fresh."

Elliot was about to make a sarcastic retort when he saw her enter the bullpen. Her hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, bangs framing her dark eyes. And her clothes were the usual, jeans slung low on her hips, long sleeved top underneath a leather jacket, and around her neck, the same jewellery she always wore, a gold chain from which hung a simple rectangular pendant. But there was something in the way she moved, and took in her surroundings that was wrong. Her gait was stilted somehow, as though it pained her to walk, and she looked uncomfortable like her entire being was trapped in an entirely too itchy wool sweater.

"I thought you were gonna stay home today," Fin admonished her the moment he spied her. "Aren't you supposed to be sick?"

Olivia glared at him. "I'm feeling better, thank you."

"Like hell," Fin muttered under his breath, unaware that Elliot had moved closer and could hear him.

"What's going on?" Elliot followed Olivia to her desk, a questioning look on his face. "Are you sick, Liv?"

Olivia blushed, embarrassed by the attention and the reason for her 'illness'. "It's ok," she reassured him. "I ate something that was a bit off last night, but I'm fine now. It's out of my system." She looked off to her left and Elliot knew she was lying, but he decided to play along for now, not wanting to alienate her.

"Probably because you don't have fresh food in your fridge," he said.

"Yeah, probably," she said, hoping he'd drop it.

An awkward silence followed as Elliot sat at his desk, tepid coffee in hand.

"Ahem," Fin broke the silence. "Liv, the priest is out on bail. Thought you'd wanna know."

"What, already?"

"Early bail hearing this morning. The church bailed him out, a hundred thousand. Sonofabitch," Fin said.

"The church? Covering up for its abusive priests again, huh." Olivia shook her head. "I should have known."

"Hey, you can't go blaming the entire Catholic church because Father Shannon is an abusive prick," Elliot told her, his voice rising in defense.

Olivia thought to say something but kept her mouth closed. She did not want to argue with Elliot, not today. Especially not today. Given her perilous emotions, she needed a stalemate between them now. "Right, El," she conceded, unable to suppress a tiny cringe.

Elliot raised his brows in surprise and also chose to keep his mouth shut. First, she agreed with him about her spoiled food, and now, about this? Her unexpected reactions threw him off kilter. "Don't worry, Father Shannon is going to pay for what he did to Tess. Him, personally." Elliot stood up again and went to study the crime board. Olivia followed him with her eyes and gasped. The life size photo of Tess Morgan's dead baby hung right in the middle of the board, flanked on either side by photos of Father Shannon, and Tess herself. The photos simultaneously repelled and drew her toward them. She came to stand beside Elliot and stared at the board with him.

"That poor baby," she whispered. "She never had a chance, from the moment she was conceived."

Elliot turned to look at her, dismayed by the naked anguish on her face. He knew this case was hitting her hard, and not just because the baby had been born of rape. He knew how badly she wanted a child, and that she'd been rejected for adoption because of their job. His heart ached for her.

"She didn't even have a name," Olivia said. "Nobody named her. Look, her photo label only says 'Baby Morgan'". Her eyes welled up and she blinked hard.

Elliot felt her sadness too, and compounded with all the stress at home, he was unable to stop his own eyes from welling up. Now they both stood in front of the photos, blinking hard to keep the tears at bay.

Olivia heard him sniffle and tore her eyes away from the photo. Fat unshed tears sat on his lower lids, reflecting the overhead lights. The refractive effect of light and moisture turned his eyes an electric shade of blue, brighter and deeper than Liv had ever seen. She stared at him, mesmerized by his breathtaking eyes. Sensing her gaze upon him, he turned to face her as one tear streaked down his cheek. Mirroring his, a tear chose that moment to loosen itself from Olivia's lower lid and run down her left cheek. Elliot saw it and caught the falling tear with his index finger before it could make its way down her warm jaw. She gasped at the gentle touch against her cheek, her mouth falling into a soft pink O. His touch was too fleeting, and over so fast that Olivia felt almost bereft at its loss. For in that small moment of searing emotion, she'd felt something stronger than the black cloud she now inhabited. Something in Elliot's touch had acted like an antidote. She sought more, and placed a tentative hand on his bicep, then withdrew it.

"She needs a name," Olivia stated blankly. "She deserves one."

Elliot nodded at her. "You should give her one."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Olivia, you want her to regain her humanity after the terrible desecration that was committed against her. Giving her a name means that at least one person gave a damn about her."

"Alright. Give me a sec." Liv studied the baby's delicate features and softly traced her finger along the photo, stopping on the baby's face. She closed her eyes and waited for a name to come to her. Elliot watched, moved by the tender movements. He could see a natural maternal instinct in her; it was strong. God, he wanted to give her a baby of her own. He could picture her, swollen with his child, a radiant smile on her glowing face. Instead, she stood before him, forlornly concentrating on naming a murdered baby.

"Liv, if you can't …"

"Diana!" she declared suddenly.

"Diana?"

"Roman goddess of the moon. See, because she's so pale, translucent like the moon. Diana was strong, a huntress. I'm giving this baby her strength, and divinity." A triumphant expression settled on Olivia's face, and she smiled sadly. "It's all I can give her."

"That, and justice. We'll get justice for Diana."

"Thank you, Elliot." She gazed at him with gratitude in her eyes.

Their eyes locked into each other, with deep emotion hanging in the space between them. Unable to break the spell, they stood simply, staring.

"Olivia, what are you doing here? I thought you were sick?" Cragen interrupted their moment.

"What?" Olivia shook her head and broke away from Elliot's spell. "I felt better and wanted to work."

"Good. Good. Huang is passing through this afternoon. See if he can spare you a few minutes, alright?"

It wasn't a request. "Yes sir, I will."

"Well, um, guess I should get back to work before he arrives," Olivia said flatly. Like a balloon deflated of air, she reverted to her previous state. She gave Elliot a weak, quarter smile and walked toward the pile of paperwork awaiting her.

Elliot noticed her abnormal, pained stride again, as if she was sore between the legs. The same walk he'd seen countless times in rape victims. When she sat, she lifted her bum off the chair and lowered herself more gently. Fin was looking at her too, terrible unhappiness etched in his eyes. Elliot saw the other detective shake his head sadly, and stare at Liv with deep concern.

Elliot frowned, wondering what the hell was going on.

 _A/N: Reviews keep me going. Thanks guys!_


	7. Chapter 7

Hangovers and paperwork did not mix. Olivia tried to focus on the pile of papers before her, pinching the bridge of her nose to halt the intermittent throbbing in her head. She also couldn't stop looking at the Morgan baby's photo on the crime board. Earlier that day, Olivia had named the murdered baby Diana, a tribute to the poor little girl. She felt a sense of maternal responsibility for that baby, a powerful link forged as they were both born of rape. She was determined to see justice served and as such, couldn't focus on the boring paperwork.

"Are you almost done the Dimello report?" Munch's question broke through her reverie. She lifted her head and blinked at her older colleague.

"Not yet," she replied, a small sigh escaping her. "I'm sorry, I've barely started it."

"That boring, huh?"

Olivia responded by giving him that maddening incomplete smile, and for some reason, he felt sad when he saw it. "You okay, Liv?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she repeated for the umpteenth time that day. Three sets of eyes fixed on her, Fin's, Elliot's and Munch's. Olivia hated feeling so exposed, her nerves raw and on edge from the hangover. She wondered if her secrets were written all over her face, and she wanted to escape. Instead, she busied herself with papers, and hid her face in a manila folder.

"Liv." Cragen stepped out of his office and approached her desk, Huang on his heels. "George is here. You two can use my office to talk." He spoke quietly as to not alert the entire bullpen. Olivia swallowed hard, and nodded.

George Huang, FBI psychiatrist and profiler often lent an ear to the SVU detectives. He knew how stressful their cases could be, and he often had insights that lay psychologists didn't possess. He inclined his head toward Olivia and nodded in the direction of the Captain's office. She stood up and stole a glance at Elliot. He fixed her with his blue eyes and whispered as she passed, "it's going to be okay." She paused mid-stride and gave him a worried smile. Her arm hung loosely at her side, and before she could take another step, he discretely grabbed her finger tips and gave them a quick squeeze. When she looked down, Elliot had let go. The small touch of encouragement pulsated through her hand and arm, straight to her heart. She desperately wanted to grab his hand and hold it tightly, then stare into his deep blue eyes and lose herself in them. Instead, Olivia did not stop and she followed Huang into Cragen's office.

Olivia felt uncomfortable despite her friendship with Huang. She'd previously confided in him many times, and he'd helped her out, counseled her unofficially, and given her useful advice. In general, she felt more comfortable with him than with an unknown shrink, but today she would have preferred to remain anonymous. George sat at the Captain's desk and Olivia sat across from him in her usual seat.

"Good afternoon, Olivia. I don't have a lot of time, so why don't we cut to the chase?"

Olivia stared at him for a moment to gather herself. She composed her face into an expressionless mask, the way she sometimes did with perps. "Just like that, huh? Did the Captain fill you in at all?" She needed to ascertain how much he already knew before she divulged unnecessary information.

Huang shook his head. "How about you simply tell me about your reaction to the Tess Morgan case?"

"Fine."

"Actually, I surmise that it's not 'fine'," he prodded.

"Alright," Olivia took a deep breath before continuing. "Tess Morgan killed her baby in a public bathroom during her prom. Elliot and I were called to the scene."

"And, how did that make you feel?"

She rolled her eyes at the cliché question. "How did it make me feel? Dead babies don't generate a lot of good feelings, George. I was upset, and shocked, and sad."

"That's all very normal given the circumstances, Olivia. You and Elliot visit many murder scenes, and I imagine you'd have those feelings for most of them. Could tell me how your reaction differed on this case?" Huang templed his fingers and leaned back in the chair, waiting.

"I suppose Cragen already told you that the baby was conceived of rape."

"He did. That must have hit close to home for you."

Olivia stood up and began to pace in the small office. "You think?"

Huang heard the sarcasm in her voice but said nothing. He wanted her to vent and express her feelings honestly with him. "Yeah, _I think_. I think you identified with that baby. And I believe you saw something of your mother in Tess Morgan." He paused to let her absorb his words. "Am I wrong?"

Liv sat down again and leaned over the desk, inching closer to George. "You're not wrong."

"Okay, good, good. Now tell me, about your confrontation with Tess Morgan. What happened there?"

"I lost it."

"Define 'lost it', Liv." George's dark eyes sought Liv's. He looked at her encouragingly.

"I yelled at her and tried to arrest her for murder even though she'd just told me she'd been raped. I didn't listen and I didn't treat her like a victim." Olivia hung her head low. "I was really rough on her." She paused before quietly adding, "I feel so ashamed."

"I see."

"What do you see?" Olivia hated it when shrinks pretended to know everything.

"I see that you're in pain. I see that you became angry with Tess because she killed her baby and you identified with that baby."

"I know all of that already. Can you clear me to return to normal duties?" If George wanted to cut to the chase, then Olivia was more than willing to speed things along.

"Don't you think that might be too soon?" he asked her, in his vexing shrink voice.

"Does it matter what I think?" Olivia threw her hands up in exasperation. "You're the one who's supposed to clear me. Do you think it's too soon?"

"I'm asking you what you think. You know yourself best."

"Ha!" Olivia stood up again to pace. Being caged in Cragen's office while having her head shrunk was a punishment worse than desk duty.

"Are you saying that you don't know yourself best?" George probed.

Olivia let out a loud sigh and sat down again, her knees bouncing in tandem to her frustration.

"I get the feeling you don't want to be here", Huang told her bluntly. "Are these questions making you uncomfortable?"

"I only want to return to regular duty," she told him. "Yes, I was harsh with Tess, and I identified with the victim. But I'm intellectually aware of that now, and able to emotionally distance myself from it." Liv looked at Huang pleadingly. "I want justice for that baby, and for Tess as a victim of rape. Sitting at a desk filling out forms all day isn't the best use of my time or abilities."

"That may be true. However, I'm more concerned with your well-being, Olivia. My recommendation is that you remain on desk duty for the time being. I'd also like you to make a full hour appointment with me to talk. And you're to stay away from this case. I don't think you need to be anywhere near Tess Morgan," Huang confirmed. He noticed that Olivia wasn't her usual self, and that she seemed tired and stressed.

"How have you been sleeping?" he asked her, before she could bolt out of the small room.

Olivia exhaled sharply, frustrated that the interview wasn't over. "I haven't had the best sleep," she admitted. She hesitated a moment, opened her mouth as if to say something but changed her mind.

"Is there something else you want to talk about?" George said.

"I don't want to keep you."

"I'm not in that much of a hurry. What is it?"

"Last night, I did something stupid. And I don't want you to find out about it from somebody else." Olivia was worried that Fin might inadvertently let something out. Disclosing information on her own terms seemed a safer bet. But she also remembered that Monique Jeffries had been put on desk duty for having unwise relations with a suspect. Then again, she was already on desk duty, and there was no suspect in her one night stand.

"Olivia, you're a million miles away. What happened last night?"

"Patient-shrink confidentiality applies here, right?"

"Of course it does, unless you've committed a crime."

"I didn't commit a crime." Olivia placed the emphasis on "I".

"Did somebody else?" George asked.

Olivia shook her head hard. "No."

"Then, what happened? This remains confidential, Olivia. You obviously need to talk," he encouraged her.

"Well, it's like this," she began somewhat hesitantly. "After I was kicked off the case and spent all day yesterday doing paperwork, I didn't want to go home to an empty apartment. Sometimes we go out for drinks after, you know, to Maloney's. I didn't want to go there either, because it's a cop bar and everybody knows everybody's business."

"Where did you go?"

"A pub downtown where I'd never been." Olivia stopped and closed her eyes, remembering Max. She shuddered.

"Did something happen at the pub?"

"Yeah," she replied before pausing. Huang was listening to her attentively, giving her his full attention. "I met a man. He bought me a drink and we had dinner together. He seemed nice, handsome and was very smooth with flattery."

"Okay. So, this nice, handsome man buys you a drink and dinner. That's not a bad thing. Sounds like you needed the company after all."

"Yeah, I did. My thoughts were so messed up after the case." Olivia stopped, wondering if she'd said too much.

"How so?"

She didn't see a way out of this one, and wondered how shrinks always managed to get to the heart of an issue. "Mother stuff. I kept thinking about my childhood, about my mother. After meeting Tess, old memories kept popping into my head." Olivia shook her head as though trying to scatter away the memories themselves. George nodded, silently encouraging her to continue. "So, um, I remembered the day I found out that I'd been fathered by my mother's rapist."

"I can't imagine how hard that must have been."

"I don't want to talk about it right now," she stated flatly. "I only wanted to explain my state of mind when I met the man at the pub."

"Alright, but it'd be important to discuss it at some point. When you're ready."

"Fine."

"So, let's go back at the pub," he pressed.

"I was drunk. I forgot to tell you that I drank too much."

Huang looked concerned. "Do you do that often? Drink too much?"

"No, I don't. I was stupid that night," she lamented. Her eyes began to well up and she sniffed as her nose threatened to drip.

"You're not stupid, Olivia."

"Yes, I am. I drank so much, George. After the Whisky Sours, I had too much wine with dinner and … and I became confused. The man, he reminded me of my first boyfriend. I … thought it was him. Oh god, I'm such an idiot."

"Being confused doesn't make you an idiot," Huang told her. "Why are you being so hard on yourself, Olivia?" George asked her in a kind, gentle voice.

His kindness undid her, and the tears began to fall unchecked. "I let him lead me out, to his hotel room. He looked so much like Mark, my old boyfriend. I've never been that drunk in my entire life," she confessed.

"Did you sleep with the man?"

"Yeah."

"Thinking he was your old boyfriend?" Huang handed Liv a tissue and waited while she wiped her tears and blew her nose.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, Olivia. Did you wake up with him this morning and realize your mistake?"

"No. I realized during, um, during the sex act. It didn't feel … right." She crossed her legs together and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, shrinking into the chair.

Huang's eyes widened. "Did you stop him?"

"No," she whispered, as shame overtook her. "Don't you see, it was my fault?"

"I don't see that at all! Did you ask him to stop?"

"I led him on, and followed him to his hotel. I encouraged his moves, let him undress me," she choked back a sob. "I was compliant and willing."

"You were drunk. You can't give consent when you're drunk, Olivia."

"Maybe he didn't realize how much."

"Why are you making excuses for him?"

"No!"

"No, what?" George was confused. Olivia suddenly stood up, her cheeks crimson with humiliation.

"No, I can't talk about this anymore." She opened the door to leave but George called out to her.

"Olivia, wait!" He stood up and took a few steps toward her, but stopped before invading her space. "I know you're upset but you need to finish telling me this."

"I can't, please," she begged.

"I need to know one thing and then you can go." He tried to lead her back to the chair but she fell against the door, shutting it with her back.

"Please …"

"Olivia, what did you do when you realized he wasn't your ex-boyfriend?"

Olivia's chin trembled as shame and fear seeped through her entire being. "He couldn't stop," she replied. "He was too far gone, almost finished."

"So you _did_ ask him to stop," Huang confirmed. "Olivia, if he didn't stop when you asked him to, and you were too drunk to consent, then this was .."

She cut him off sharply, reminding Huang of a child putting her hands over her ears and singing loudly to drown out bad news. "No! Don't say it. Don't say it."

"I don't need to say it because you know what it was," he told her.

She pulled herself up to her full height and swallowed hard. "It was a mistake, a bad one-night stand. That's what it was." She opened the door and ran out of the office, to the cribs upstairs.

George stood watching her from the doorway. He couldn't recommend that Olivia be cleared for duty anytime soon. Until she dealt with the truth of that night, she was in no shape to pursue SVU cases or speak to victims. He shook his head sadly, knowing he wouldn't be writing the report he had hoped to.

The look on Huang's face alarmed Elliot. The FBI shrink never lost his composure, not even when profiling the vilest of criminals, and yet here he was looking disturbed, watching while Olivia flew up the stairs to the cribs. Elliot waited for Huang to leave the bullpen before making his way up the stairs.

 _A/N: Ok, dear reader, I wanted to post one last chapter for 2017. Wishing you all a Happy New Year, with more chapters to come in 2018. Sorry for the cliff hanger, folks, but it's past midnight and I'm so fried. Fear not, I'm off work next week and will hopefully find time to write._


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: Hello readers, thank you for your patience. I took a wee break from this story and penned a fluffy new one called "New Year's Ball". Now back to the heavy drama ….**_

Elliot hurried up the stairs to the cribs, easily finding Olivia. She sat hunched down on a bench in front of her locker, hands cradling her face. She emitted the occasional sniffle or sob but Elliot could tell she was trying to stifle her crying because her shoulders were shaking from the effort. He approached her quietly and dropped onto the seat beside her, not saying a word.

Olivia wiped her face on her sleeves and looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. "El," she whispered hoarsely.

"Hi," he said in a soft, gentle voice. "What happened with Huang?"

She shook her head and hung her head back down. "Still on desk duty."

"Why?" Elliot was genuinely puzzled. He figured the meeting with Huang was only routine and that his partner would be cleared soon after.

"It's complicated," she started to tell him but was interrupted by the ringing of Elliot's cell phone. "Aren't you going to answer that?" she asked after the fifth ring.

He looked at the phone and shrugged when he saw Kathy's number on the caller ID. The phone finally went quiet after seven rings.

"What's complicated?" he asked her.

"You mean besides the 'child of rape' aspect of the case?"

"Yeah but now that you're aware of why you got upset with Tess and …damn …now what?" Elliot's phone began ringing again, its insistent chime grating on his nerves. He saw it was still Kathy. "Now's not a good time," he answered, unable to hide his irritation. He listened for a moment and loudly exclaimed, "Are you serious? You're doing this now?"

Olivia tilted her head, wondering what was going on, her own misery temporarily halted. She silently questioned Elliot's reddening face and the wildly darting eyes. "What's wrong?" she mouthed to him. He stood up and began pacing down the aisle beside the lockers, not wanting Olivia to worry about him.

"You couldn't wait until I was home, Kathy?" Elliot yelled into the phone miserably. This was followed by a long pause during which his wife's strident, high-pitched voice diffused into the room, her words unintelligible. Olivia strained her ears. She could hear the words "now" and "enough". Elliot moved further down the row of lockers, then came to an abrupt stop. He rubbed his free hand over his neck and shook his head. "They're my children too," he said into the phone. Silence.

Liv went to stand beside him when he ended the call. The phone fell out of his loose grasp when he dropped to the floor, weak and defeated.

"What's going on, El?" She crouched down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. "What did Kathy do?"

He turned as though startled by her sudden appearance beside him. "I can't believe it," he said.

"What is it?"

"She …she kicked me out," he told her. "As of tonight, she wants me out."

"What!?" Olivia exclaimed. "She can't just do that, can she? You own that house."

"Yeah but her lawyer drafted a separation agreement and it says I have to be out as of today. I can pack when she goes out tomorrow," he explained.

"Do you have a lawyer?" she asked, her dark eyes full of concern.

"Not really, no. I thought we were going to wait before doing this."

"I'll call Casey and ask her to recommend a divorce lawyer for you," Olivia went into take charge mode. "Where are you going to sleep tonight?"

"Here, I guess."

"Oh El, that's not comfortable. You want to crash on my couch?"

"I don't know," he replied as he stood up. "That might give Kathy more ammunition against me. She wants to sue for full custody."

"Oh my god, why is she doing this to you? Why now?" She tried to make eye contact with him but he wouldn't meet her gaze.

"It's been happening for a long time, Liv. She's just finally had it and she wants me gone. I don't know why today though." He faced her, blue eyes glistening and bright. "I don't want her to take the twins away." His voice cracked with emotion, "My only son and my baby girl …damn."

"I'm so sorry, El" she murmured quietly. "I'm so sorry. How can I help you?"

"Like this, just like this, Liv. You have so much on your plate right now. You don't need to take on my problems too."

"Actually, helping you with your problems helps me forget mine for a bit. Let me help you, El. I can call Casey and find you a good lawyer. Will you let me do that?"

"Only if you let me help you with your stuff, Liv." He looked into her dark, impenetrable eyes, wondering at the sadness there. "I know something's going on with you, beyond the case. I can see you're hurting."

"As are you, El."

"It's funny," he started, "how other peoples' problems seem easier to solve than one's own, huh? I wasn't even thinking about a lawyer yet."

"I guess so," she replied, wondering where he was going with this.

"It's true," he said flatly. "You help me find a lawyer, and I'll help you with whatever this thing is that you're going through, okay?"

Olivia turned away from the intensity of his stare. "It's too much, Elliot."

"Why? Why is it too much? Do you trust me?"

She turned back around to face him. "Of course I trust you. It's just …"

"Just what?"

"It's just … too much," she faltered.

Elliot raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Cragen calling for Olivia.

"There you are," he said. "Olivia, I need to speak with you. Alone." The Captain studied his detectives, the way they leaned into each other, their faces sporting equally devastated expressions.

"I, um, I'll be at my desk," Elliot told her. She nodded and turned to Cragen.

"What is it, Captain?"

"Please, sit down," he gestured to the locker room bench.

Olivia's legs began to feel shaky when she realized that he was holding official documents. "What are those?" she asked.

Cragen took a deep breath and sat next to her. "George and I had a short conversation before he had to leave," he informed her.

"Oh." Her heart began pounding frantically in her chest, like a small caged bird.

"He wants you put on a leave of absence," Cragen said, the confusion evident in his eyes. "Paid leave, until he clears you."

"What!?"

"I'm sorry, Olivia. I was just as surprised as you are now. What you two spoke about was confidential, but he told me you need to be off work for the next few weeks. Said you needed to work through some personal things."

"Oh my god, this is insane," she cried. "I trusted him."

"And I do trust his judgement," Cragen said. "If this is his recommendation, then I'm going to have to agree with him. Unless of course you want to be evaluated by an independent psychiatrist." He threw the option out there, like a bone.

Olivia gritted her teeth, horrified at being placed in this position. If she went to another psychiatrist, she'd have to retell her story and involve yet another person. She shook her head. "No."

"Alright then. You need to sign these papers, then leave the precinct. Go home and make an appointment with Huang. He wants to talk to you some more." Cragen observed her as though trying to divine her secrets

"He really didn't tell you anything about our conversation?" she prodded.

"No, he cited patient confidentiality. However, he did say that your ability to do your job may be compromised at this time."

"Shit. Sorry, Captain."

"No, I'm the one who's sorry," he said grimly. "Whatever it is you're going through, I want to help."

"I don't think anybody can help me," she said as a lump lodged itself in her throat.

"That's not true, Olivia."

"I'm, uh, gonna go," she said, unable to withstand the pity in his gaze. She quickly scribbled her name at the bottom of the document he'd proffered. It stated that Olivia would take a mandatory paid leave of absence until such time as she was cleared by a psychiatrist. The wording made her cringe because it made her sound crazy.

"Before you leave, take this."

"What is it?"

"A note to you, from George. He said to give it to you after you signed the papers. I'll give you some privacy so you can read it." The Captain turned toward the stairs and took a couple of steps down, then went back up. "Olivia, if you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask. My door is always open to you."

"Thank you."

"Good bye, Olivia."

"Good bye," she choked out.

Olivia tore open the little envelope and pulled out Huang's note. It read _: "Olivia, I'm sorry about the mandatory leave of absence. We need to speak again soon. In the meantime, I strongly recommend that you go to the hospital and have a rape kit done. Until you can face the reality of what's happened to you, I don't believe you can work in the SVU unit. Please call me this afternoon after four. We'll discuss."_

Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped in shock. "No, no, no," she cried. "You can't do this to me, George," she hissed at the offensive note. "Sonovabitch!" Olivia glanced around the empty locker room surprised that everything looked the same as it had the moments before her world had come crashing down around her. Desperation fed her, like a wild animal caught in a trap, willing to chew through its own paw to escape. The sudden urge to run propelled her down the stairs, as she bolted, forgetting her coat. The creased note twirled in the air three times before it landed softly underneath the locker room bench. Blinded by tears, Olivia did not notice.

 _A/N: Reviews are really nice to get. Thanks! Ok, that was a bit hard to write, so now back to my fluffy story, A New Year's Ball._


	9. Chapter 9

Elliot saw Olivia run out of the precinct shortly after their conversation. He wondered what was going on, because Captain Cragen had just been with her in the Cribs. He knew something was up with her, beyond the case, beyond Tess Morgan and the dead baby, but he couldn't piece it together. He was missing vital pieces of the puzzle and only Olivia could fill him in. Or maybe she wasn't the only one who could. He'd noticed that Fin had been keeping a sharp eye on her for the past couple of days, as well as repeatedly asking her if she was alright. So, Fin had to know something. Elliot stood and walked over to Fin's desk.

"What's up?" Fin asked him.

"I need to talk to you."

"What about?"

"Not in here. Upstairs?" Elliot began to tap his pen on the back of Fin's chair.

"You mean now?"

"Yeah, now. It's important."

"A'right man, I'm coming, I'm coming." Fin locked his computer and shoved his paperwork to the side of his desk. His lack of haste was increasing Elliot's irritation.

The two men went up the stairs, Fin trailing behind his impatient colleague. When they made it up, Fin turned to Elliot. "What's so important?"

"It's about Liv."

"What about her?" Fin said, arms crossed against his midriff. He scowled at Elliot.

"Huang didn't clear her for regular duty yet. She told me that she's still on desk duty."

"Poor Liv. She's gotta hate that." Fin shook his head.

"Of course she hates it." Elliot paused and studied the man before him. Fin was closed off, and he seemed uncomfortable with the topic at hand. "What has she said to you, Fin?"

"What makes you think she's said anything to me?" Fin threw back.

"You're not answering my question. You know something. I know you do. The way you've been looking at her lately. Tell me." Elliot moved in closer and looked at Fin with wide, questioning eyes, blue orbs probing.

Fin looked away and took several steps in the other direction. "I know nothin' man."

"Bullshit!"

"Hey, even if I did know something, doesn't mean I'm gonna blab it to you."

"So you do know something!" Elliot confirmed. "A-ha, I knew it."

"How 'bout you talk to _her_?" Fin replied. He moved his head away from Elliot's piercing gaze. Every way he turned, there was Stabler, in his face.

"I did talk to her, but all she talked about was the Morgan case," Elliot admitted. "I know there's more. I can feel it, in here." He pointed to his chest.

"Man, if she didn't tell you, it's probably because she doesn't want you to know." Fin began walking toward the stairs.

"What didn't she tell me? Hey! I'm worried about her." He grabbed Fin by the shoulder and pulled him back.

Fin exhaled sharply. "I don't repeat other peoples' secrets. They're not for me to tell. Now, let go of me!"

Elliot was like a dog with a bone and he wouldn't budge. "Dammit, Fin. She's my partner, not yours."

"You gonna get possessive about her now? She does _not_ need that." Fin faced Elliot and removed the other man's hand from his shoulder. "Don't touch me, man."

Elliot deflated before Fin's eyes; his formerly aggressive stance replaced by crushed helplessness. Drained, he went to sit on the bench where he and Olivia had been talking earlier. "Can you at least tell me what she _does_ need?"

Fin balked for a moment, then nodded. He sat beside Elliot. "I know you care about her. I know you two are close, but Olivia is a private person. She's not good at sharing her shit."

"She told _you_."

"Well, under the circumstances …" Fin stopped himself before revealing too much.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Elliot sat up straight and raked his fingers through his short hair, hard.

The two men stared at each other, neither blinking. Fin looked away first; nobody could compete with a 'Stabler stare'.

"Look, why don't you go to her? She could use a friend. And that's all I'm sayin'." Fin clammed up and pursed his lips tightly.

Elliot wasn't satisfied with Fin's answers, and he'd hit a wall so he knew that no more information would be forthcoming. Not that he was surprised. "In that case, I'm going to see her after work. I mean, she took off like a bat out of hell after her meeting with Cragen. Don't know what's up with that," Elliot said. "I think she was crying."

Fin stood at the same time as Elliot and cleared his throat. "Just …just be gentle with her, man. And don't tell her I sent you. She'd kill me." Fin moved his foot toward the stairs and felt something crinkle beneath his heel. He bent down to retrieve a small paper from the floor. He looked it over, and then a second time to be sure he was reading it correctly. "Goddammit."

"What? What is that?" Elliot tried to peer at the note but Fin held it against his chest.

"It's not for you, Stabler."

"And you expect me to believe that it's for you? What is it?"

Fin folded the note and made to put it in his pocket, but Elliot had lightening quick reflexes. That note was the missing piece of the puzzle; he just knew it. He snatched it out of Fin's startled grasp and started to read the first couple of lines. _Olivia, I'm sorry about the mandatory leave of absence. We need to speak again soon._ Fin grabbed the note right back,inadvertently tearing it in half. Each man stood with ripped paper in his hands. "What the hell did you do that for?" Elliot shouted. "It said 'mandatory leave of absence'. Do you know anything about that?"

"No, I had no idea. I thought she was just on desk duty. Gimme your piece of the note."

"No way. You give me your piece." Elliot held his torn paper in the air and waved it. "You want this? You need to piece yours together with mine. Then maybe we can both figure out what the hell is going on with Olivia."

"For fuck's sake, Elliot. You don't need to know this. You're gonna go all crazy ass on her and she doesn't need that right now!"

"Why? Why do you think I'd do that?" he pressed.

"Because I know your temper."

Elliot tried to remain as calm as possible. He held his hands up in surrender. "Look, I promise I won't flip out, okay? I'm her best friend and her partner. I want to help her. Please. I'm begging you, please, Fin."

"Oh man, I'm gonna regret this. You gotta swear on your life, and on hers," Fin pushed.

"Alright."

"No, say it. Swear, out loud," Fin commanded him.

"Okay, I swear I won't flip out or lose my temper. I swear on my life and Liv's." He fairly choked on his own words; they were nettles on his tongue. But he needed that elusive piece of the puzzle. He had to have it. "Give it to me, Fin."

"Here." Fin handed over his crumpled piece of torn paper. He watched as Elliot pieced them together and read the entire note. Then he waited for the detonation that was Stabler, to explode before him.

Elliot scanned the note quickly, blinked in disbelief and read it again just to be sure he'd read it correctly.

 _In the meantime, I strongly recommend that you go to the hospital and have a rape kit done. Until you can face the reality of what's happened to you, I don't believe you can work in the SVU unit. Please call me this afternoon after four. We'll discuss._

"Rape kit?!" His head shot up in dismay. "You knew about this?"

"Hey, you promised …just calm the fuck down," Fin warned him. "And lower your voice. The whole precinct will hear you."

A shockwave of horror slowly made its way past Elliot's frontal cortex, lodging itself firmly in his amygdala. His heart began to race and his hands started to tremble. He turned around and punched his locker, hard. Then he punched it again and again, making deep dents in the metal door.

"Elliot, stop!" Fin pulled him away and held his arms down. "This ain't helping her."

Tears sprang from Elliot's eyes. "What happened to her, Fin? Why didn't I know?" he cried in a strangled voice.

"Listen, this is Huang's interpretation. Maybe he viewed the events in a certain light. . . I saw her right after and she never said she was raped."

"Tell me everything."

Fin took a deep breath and related his point of view of that evening's events when he had rescued Liv from the hotel. He finished by saying, "She was drunk and she called it a one night stand. A bad one."

"'Cause she can't let herself be a victim," Elliot said flatly. "Don't you see? Olivia isn't going to go there. If she goes there, she becomes a victim."

"She might well be a victim," Fin said. "That asshole she was with … he had to know how drunk she was. She was confused, and then she barfed in his bed. At the very least, he's guilty of terrible judgement. Liv was way too drunk to consent." He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. "However, Huang won't be able to get her to do a rape kit. No way. She was in the shower when I came to get her. And she's probably had several more since then. There won't be any evidence."

"So, we're looking at a case of ' _he said-she said'_ ," Elliot said in defeat. "If it went down like you said, and Liv refuses to admit that it was anything more than a bad one night stand, there's no way we can prosecute. Plus, she's washed away all of the physical evidence."

"Hmmm."

"What?"

"I know where the guy's staying," Fin stated, his intent clear. His hazel eyes lit up with a determined fire. "And I know his name."

Elliot's head shot up and his mouth twisted into a grim smile. "Yeah?"

"You know, Stabler, maybe your temper isn't such a bad thing after all. I say we go talk to this Max person and find out exactly what happened that night. You know, get his side of the story. He's at the Novotel."

"Let's go."

 _ **A/N: Thanks for your patience in waiting for this next installment. I've got three stories on the go, in two separate fandoms. They must all wait their turn. I love chocolates and reviews. Thanks!**_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Thanks for your patience, dear reader. I know it's been a long time updating but to compensate, this is a longish chapter._

Alone, Olivia burst into her apartment and slammed the door behind her. She locked the extra bolts and made a beeline for her couch. Still reeling from her meeting with Huang and his note, she crashed onto the soft cushions and began massaging her temples. _Mandatory leave of absence_. The words blinked in her mind's eye, their rebuff and judgement slamming into her chest. "Dammit!" she shouted. Restless, she jumped up from the sofa and fumbled through her CD collection to find the right one to match her mood. Alanis Morissette's _Jagged Little Pill_ , check. Olivia shoved the CD into her player and skipped to the song she needed right now, _You Oughta Know_. Its harsh cords and agonized vocals perfectly suited her mood. It was her go-to song after a difficult case, especially when a perp got away with his crimes. Like Max. No, because Max hadn't committed a crime. Or had he? Olivia rubbed her hand down her face and restarted the song so she could get its full effect. She began singing aloud, shouting the lyrics _._ The line, _I'm not quite well, I thought you should know_ felt like a cruel joke _._ She internalized the words of Alanis' yelling-song, but it felt good, so good to let it out. When she got to the line, _cause the joke that you laid in the bed that was me_ …Ha! Olivia squeezed her eyes shut. She was a joke. A mirthless laugh escaped her, and she slammed off her music, then headed for the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face and looked up. "What kind of cop are you?" she asked her reflection in the mirror above the sink. "A pretty lousy one, that's what kind," she replied. And now with the mandatory leave of absence and George telling her to get a rape kit, there was no way to keep her failures secret any longer. She needed an out.

Fearfully determined, Liv strode to her room and grabbed her phone. She dialled the number of the person she trusted most to help her in this situation; the most impartial and honest one she could think of. The only one who didn't have an agenda, and who'd give it to her straight and hopefully get Huang off her back.

"ME's office, Melinda speaking."

"Hi Melinda. It's Olivia. I … I need to talk to you."

"If this is about the Morgan case, I'm afraid I can't discuss it with you, Olivia. Cragen told me you're off that case."

"No, I only need your advice. Please. It's personal."

"Alright, do you want to come over to the lab? I'll be done with this autopsy in about an hour. We can go to Maloney's and have a drink after."

"Drinks?" Olivia felt bile rising up her throat at the memory of those whisky sours. "Not a bar. How about the Starbucks near the lab? I can meet you there."

"Good idea. That way you won't have to look at any dead bodies either."

"Thanks Mel, I really appreciate it."

"See you soon, Liv."

* * *

Elliot and Fin were on a mission. They arrived at the Novotel in silence, Elliot clenching his fists and Fin sniffing loudly. The two cops marched in unison, their goal propelling them in a state of synchronicity. When they reached Max's hotel door, they both pounded on it. One two, one two, one two, taking turns.

Max opened the door and faltered at the sight of the angry men before him. He recognized Fin, of course, but the other man seemed even scarier. "What do you want?" he asked them fearfully before jumping out of their way when they barged in.

Elliot closed the door behind him and glared at the tall, blond man before him. "I think you can guess why we're here."

Max shook his head stupidly, eyes darting around the room wildly. "You're Olivia's friend," he said to Fin. "Why did you come back? Did she, uh lose something?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact she did," Fin snarled. He put his face in Max's face. "She lost her dignity. My pal and I are here to get it back for her."

Max backed away and stumbled over his open suitcase. "You're packing? Leaving so soon?" Fin said.

"I …I …uh … have to get home," Max stammered.

"Not so fast, lover boy. Don't know if you remember but I promised to hunt you down if you hurt Olivia."

"Hurt her?" Max's eyes flew open. "I don't know what she told you, but I didn't hurt her. You saw her—not a mark on her. You were there!"

"You wanna talk about what I saw? Ok, let's go there, man." Fin pushed Max backward until the taller man lost his balance and fell onto the bed. Fin loomed over him while Elliot watched. "Hmm, where should I begin? I saw a woman crying in the shower after the water had gone cold. I saw her clothes on the floor, and I saw you pretending everything was fine." Out of the corner of his eye, Fin noticed Elliot's face turning ever redder and his fists tighter at the mention of Olivia crying.

Max shrank back on the bed and scooted further from the edge. "She was sick because she drank too much. That's why she needed a long shower, to get rid of the vomit, and that's why she was crying." He looked from one man to the other, seeking absolution.

"You got the part about her drinking too much right," Fin huffed out angrily. "She was too drunk to consent."

"Consent? She consented! She followed me from the pub and she wanted it."

"I highly doubt that," Elliot said. "You have no idea what mental state she was in when you found her, or the horrible week she's had. She was upset and drunk. I know Olivia; no way she would have gone to bed with you willingly."

Max sat up straight and looked Elliot in the eye. "You're wrong. She told me she wanted me inside of her. Those were her words! I happily obliged."

"Oh I bet you did, you sack of shit!" Elliot growled. He pushed past Fin and grabbed Max's elbow, forcing him to stand. "She was so drunk that she barfed. You were with her at the pub. How much did she drink?"

"Are you a cop too? Because this is starting to sound like an interrogation." Max drew himself to his full height and looked down at the two men. "I can call hotel security right now to have you two removed."

Fin glanced at Elliot and gave him a look, as though telling him to calm down. "We're lookin' out for her. She's real important to us, you get that? And if you don't want to talk to us here, we can hammer this out at the station."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Max exclaimed incredulously.

* * *

"Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice, Melinda," Olivia told her friend. The two women were ensconced in big comfy armchairs near the fireplace at Starbucks.

"How come we never meet here? This is a great location," Melinda observed. "My Chai Latte smells like heaven."

"Yeah, it beats a beer any day. I'm off booze for the moment anyway." Olivia cradled her warm decaf Mocha in her hands and snuggled more deeply into the large green wingback.

"How come?" Melinda took a sip of her Chai drink and sighed with pleasure.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. Mel, I … uh … I did something really stupid the other day."

"You mean with the Morgan case?"

"No. In addition to the Morgan case," Olivia said, wincing. She peered at her friend over the rim of her cup and waited.

"I'm not going to judge you, Olivia," Melinda reassured her. "You can trust me."

"I know, and I appreciate it. That's why I called you. That, and because I need your medical help."

"Are you okay?" Mel leaned forward, a look of concern etched on her face.

"No, not this time," Olivia admitted. She leaned forward, closer to her friend and scanned the vicinity for curious ears. In a low voice, she said, "I had very drunken, regrettable sex with a complete stranger the other day. Drunk because I was upset about the Morgan case. It's a big cluster, uh, mess."

The ME sighed. "It happens to the best of us, Liv, especially given the pressure we're under with our work. Did you use protection?"

"No, I seem to recall him telling me that he wanted to go in bare. He said he was clean." Olivia blushed furiously and put her hot drink down on the table before her. Its heat was exacerbating the redness in her cheeks.

Melinda's eyes widened and her jaw dropped slightly. She quickly recovered her composure and went into medical mode. "Just in case he wasn't, I can run a blood panel for STD's," she said. "Are you on the Pill?"

"No, it was giving me migraines."

"I can give you some levonorgestrel. I've got some back at the office. Has it been less than seventy-two hours since you had sex with this guy?"

"It happened last night, so twenty-four hours."

"Good. I'll give you two dosages to take twelve hours apart. You might feel nauseated and start spotting. But most women tolerate it quite well. Though, I have to warn you that Plan B is not 100% effective. If you already ovulated and conceived last night, it's not an abortion pill. It can't undo what's done."

Olivia leaned back into her chair and closed her eyes. "Not 100% effective? God, Mel, what if …?"

"We'll worry about that _if_ it happens, alright? I'm here, Olivia." Melinda grasped Liv's fingers in her own and squeezed. "How about we go back to my office after you finish your drink? I'll run the blood panel and give you the pills."

Olivia nodded dumbly, and closed her eyes as she leaned back in the armchair. Her thoughts were in turmoil, swelling and crashing over her psyche. She'd been unable to relax ever since finding the dead baby, _Diana_ in that public bathroom. For days now, she had barely slept, hardly eaten and a permanent knot was lodged in her belly. Now, she needed to deal with the mandatory leave of absence and Huang's directives, or else she'd never be cleared for duty again.

"Olivia, it's going to be okay," the ME said. With consternation, she noted her friend's iron grip on the chair, and her pained expression. "The bloodwork and pills won't take long. We'll take care of everything tonight. I've got the evening off and the lab is free. Come on, bring your drink with you and we'll get it over with."

"There's more." Olivia sniffled and blinked away the tears that were beginning to form.

"Tell me."

"I'm on mandatory leave of absence because of my indiscretion," she admitted shamefully.

"Really? That's odd. Why?"

Olivia looked up at her friend with raw pain in her eyes. "Dr. Huang wants a rape kit. I … I don't think it was rape, but he won't let me work again until I get one."

"Oh my god, Olivia." Melinda's hand flew to her mouth.

"For the sake returning to work, could you do it? I don't want to go through official channels for this. No hospitals, no name, nothing. Just give the results to Dr. Huang directly."

"I can do that, Olivia. But why does Huang think it was rape?"

"Because I was very drunk."

"That's it?" Melinda leaned in and sought Liv's eyes.

"No, I told the man to stop and he didn't." Olivia saw that Melinda wanted to speak, so she held up her hand. "He was too far gone, Mel. And prior to that, I consented."

"Wow, okay then. Liv, I don't know what to say. Sounds like you're in a very grey area here. And twenty-four hours after the fact, I assume you've had a shower."

"Several."

"Alright, we'll do this to satisfy Dr. Huang. I can check for bruising at the very least. But Liv, if you were raped, it'll be good to have the kit on file in case you want to prosecute the man involved."

"I don't want to do that. I'm only doing the kit so I can return to work. Please."

"Anything you need, Liv. You make the decisions here. Come on, it's getting late."

The two women headed out to Melinda's office to take care of Olivia.

* * *

Max stood his ground, fully aware of his legal rights. He was not under arrest and he felt that the cops didn't have much to go on.

"Ok, calm down man," Fin said. He knew he could get more out of this jerk only if he de-escalated the situation. "We're not here to arrest you … for now."

"For now? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I haven't committed any crime? I had a one night stand with a beautiful woman. That's it. The only thing I'm guilty of is cheating on my wife. But last time I checked, that wasn't a crime."

"You're married?" Elliot's head shot up at Max's words. "Then I know for a fact that Olivia wouldn't have gone near you with a ten foot pole. She doesn't do married men."

"I didn't exactly tell her."

"What else didn't you tell her, huh?" Elliot's cobalt eyes glared menacingly as he stared up at Max. Max gulped and turned away from the other man's terrifying expression.

"Yeah, she was real drunk when you had her," Fin shouted, his previous call to calm now forgotten. "She was a bit confused too. How did you manipulate her to have sex with you? 'Cause I'm pretty sure she wasn't sobbing hysterically just 'cause she threw up."

" _Sobbing hysterically_ , huh? You made my partner sob hysterically?" Elliot's nostrils flared with each word. "You're a married asshole who somehow deceived Olivia into having sex with you, and then you made her cry!" Elliot gritted his teeth and felt his fist closing of its own accord. Said fist slammed into Max's nose before Elliot could even register that he'd moved his arm. Max fell back onto the bed for a second time and covered his now bloodied face with his hands.

"Help! Help! I'm being assaulted by cops!" he yelled, as he reached for the hotel phone. Fin knocked the receiver out of his hands.

"Shut up!"

"This is police brutality!" Max said, a tremor in his voice.

"You want us to leave?" Elliot asked, his voice sickeningly sweet. "Hmm, you want us to go and leave you alone?" He pasted a chilling smile on his face.

"Yes, please leave." Max was sweating profusely now. He'd balled up tissues from the box beside his bed and wadded them up his nostrils to staunch the bleeding.

"Ok, but before we go, we just need you to answer one more question, got it?" Elliot leaned in even closer to Max. "Got it, you sick piece of crap?"

"What? What do you want to know?" Max cried. Elliot shook his head in disgust, looking at this sweaty man with Kleenex stuffed up his nose. To think that he'd had sex with Olivia. Fighting the urge to gag, he took a deep breath and fixed Max with an unblinking stare. Fin stood beside Elliot and did his best imitation of a _Stabler-stare_ , the most intimidating thing he could think of.

"I'm a detective, so just in case you think you can screw us over with your lies, you're wrong," Elliot said.

"I wasn't lying."

"Leaving out important information then."

"Like what?"

"You tell me, because your story doesn't make sense. You meet Olivia at a pub, get her drunk, bring her back to your hotel room and have sex with her." Elliot cringed at the word _sex_ , so Fin took over the interrogation.

"Next thing I know, you're answering her phone, begging me to come pick her up from your hotel room. How long was she in the shower for?"

"Uhhhh … I don't know …. Maybe twenty minutes?"

"Twenty minutes? No way. She was already in the shower when you answered her phone. It took me time to get here and she was still in the shower. The water had run cold. Try again."

Max wrung his hands together and blinked repeatedly. "Okay, it was closer to an hour. An hour, okay? She was in there for an hour. Are you satisfied?"

"We're just getting started, douchebag," Fin replied. He'd never forget Olivia's sobs, or the shame she'd exhibited upon being found. One night stands didn't elicit that kind of extreme reaction. "Tell us the truth and we'll leave. We only want to get at the truth, man." Fin held a fist up in the air, opening and closing it about three inches away from Max's face. Max turned as white as the tissues in his nose, the blood on them standing out starkly. Elliot cracked his knuckles.

"Alright! Alright! She thought I was somebody else. She kept calling me Mark and saying her mother couldn't break us up. She thought she was fucking some guy named Mark, okay? That's it. That's the whole truth." Max trembled and crossed his arms over his chest in a protective fashion.

"At any point, did she realize you weren't Mark?" Elliot asked, fully in detective mode now. He had to suppress the urge to pummel Max. He kept his fists tightly balled and tucked them beneath his armpits.

Max looked longingly at the door, and then at the window. His breathing was rapid and shallow and more sweat began to pour from his forehead.

"There's no escaping," Fin told him. "Answer him."

Max blinked fast, his eyelids fluttering frantically. "She did. But it was too late."

"Too late for what?" Fin asked.

"Too late to stop. She freaked out, alright? But it was too late. We were in the middle of doing it."

Elliot's fists escaped from their armpit prison. He slammed the mattress hard, causing Max to bounce a couple of times. "Did she ask you to stop?"

"I couldn't stop. I told you—it was too late. We were in the middle …"

"I heard you the first time," Elliot bellowed. "Did she ask you to stop?"

"Yes."

"And you didn't?"

"I already said that I couldn't because we were in the middle of …"

"Stand up."

"What?" Max chewed his fingernails.

"He told you to stand up. There's no such thing as not being able to stop. All you needed to do was pull out of her." Fin cornered Max from the other side, blocking his exit.

"Why do you want me to stand up?" On shaking legs, Max got up. Elliot and Fin each grabbed one of his arms.

"What's your last name?"

"Nelligan."

"Max Nelligan, you're under arrest for the rape of Olivia Benson. You have the right to remain silent …."

 _Reviews please! Thanks._


	11. Chapter 11

"How are you feeling, Olivia?" Melinda asked her, after finishing the blood panels and rape kit. She looked at her friend with compassion, knowing that the past hour or so had been rather traumatic and most uncomfortable.

Olivia had just gotten dressed and was clinging to her jacket for warmth. "I'm frozen to the core."

"Sorry about that. Don't get a lot of live patients in here. Or any. I can't remember the last time I examined a living person."

"Yeah, er, now that you've gotten up close and personal with me, I'm feeling a tad embarrassed," Olivia admitted. "Mel, you can't let anybody see the photos you took of my, er, bruising. Not even Huang. Please."

"I won't. They're on file officially, but I'm the only person who can access them. I will however, write a report to Dr. Huang explaining my findings."

"What are you going to tell him?"

"There weren't any fluids or hairs, so I can't source DNA. And while you did show signs of bruising, they were not inconsistent with consensual, albeit rough sex. I can't prove rape."

Olivia exhaled and nodded. "Thank you, Melinda. Thank you so much for your help and care. I really appreciate it. Hopefully this will get George off my back and he'll reinstate me at work."

"Glad to help, Liv. Do you want me to drop you off at home? It's getting late."

"Thanks, let's go."

* * *

"Who's the new hump in the tombs?" Cragen inquired, upon learning that Fin and Elliot had arrested a suspect. "Weren't you two off the clock?"

"Yeah, um, can we go into your office Cap?" Fin asked. He and Elliot had just come up from the lockup, more than happy to let Max stew in there overnight.

"Alright. Close the door." The three men crowded into Cragen's smallish office, competing for space. "Want to tell me what this is about?" Cragen sat at his desk, leaving Elliot and Fin standing before him.

"This is very sensitive, Captain," Elliot said. "It's about Liv."

"Liv? The guy in the tombs has something to do with Olivia?"

Fin and Elliot gave each other a side glance, then went silent, unsure how to proceed.

"Hello? I'm asking you a question. What's going on?" Cragen could sense the detectives' discomfort.

Fin bit the bullet. "Ok, it's like this. Last night, I tried to call Liv and this man answered her phone. Said she was in his hotel room, sick and to come pick her up." Fin swallowed and looked to Elliot, who nodded for him to continue. "When I got there, she was freaking out, crying, and had been in the shower for over an hour. Her clothes were on the bedroom floor."

"What happened next?" Cragen probed. His face had just gone a shade paler, though he tried to maintain an even tone.

"I got Liv back home, but she was drunk. I mean, really, really drunk. Too drunk to consent, drunk."

Cragen absorbed the information and closed his eyes. He ran his hands over his forehead and said nothing for a long time. His face was grim when he locked eyes with them. "And that's the guy you arrested?"

"Yeah," Elliot said. "He admitted to not stopping when she told him to."

The Captain's eyes widened and he leaned back in his chair, thinking. "Does Olivia know you have him?"

"Not yet." Elliot shrugged and looked away from Cragen's probing eyes.

"Well, did she press charges? Because no paperwork has come across my desk to that effect."

"No."

"So you arrested this guy based on what Fin saw last night?" Before either man could answer his question, Cragen continued. "You didn't consult Olivia. She didn't press charges and she doesn't know you have him." He shook his head. "I wouldn't want to be you when she finds out. You jumped the gun."

Elliot flinched at the Captain's words. In his haste to seek justice for Olivia, he hadn't actually thought about Olivia herself, or her reactions. She'd be pissed. She'd bite his head off and probably try to shoot him. "Huang's giving her a hard time with it if she doesn't get a rape kit or acknowledge what happened to her," Elliot blurted out.

"And how is it that you were aware of this? I wasn't even aware of Huang's reasons for putting her on leave." Cragen stared at Stabler, narrowing his eyes slightly. The younger man blanched.

"We found a note in the cribs," he started to explain.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me!" Cragen stood up and slammed his fists on his desk. "You went and arrested a man because you were in possession of a note you had no business reading? And the so-called victim hasn't even lodged a complaint? Let him go."

"What?" Both Fin and Elliot jumped back at their Captain's imperative.

"Cut him loose. Now! They'll throw his arrest out at the arraignment. And you're not going to bully Olivia into coming down here. If she decides to press charges, we'll reassess the situation."

"But Cap …" Elliot began to plead but was abruptly shut down by the steely glint in Cragen's eyes. The older man exited his office and began making his way down to the tombs. Fin and Elliot followed closely on his heels.

"Which one is he?" he asked when they arrived at the lockup. There were various suspects lounging in the cells, and the smell of stale alcohol, sweat, urine and bleach lingered unpleasantly in the air. Fin pointed out the tall blond man cowering in the corner of one cell, desperate to avoid contact with the rougher looking cell mates.

"His name's Max Nelligan," Fin told his Captain.

"Mr. Nelligan, we're voiding your arrest," Cragen told the terrified man. He assessed the handsome middle-aged man, noting the bloody tissues and swollen, bruised nose. Straight away he looked to Elliot.

"How'd that happen?"

Elliot shrugged and Fin looked away. He went to get the key and unlocked the cell.

Max studied the three men before him; the way the oldest one was staring daggers at the one called Elliot. "Your cop broke my nose," he told Cragen, with a look of abject pathos on his face. "He tried to force a confession out of me with his fists. I didn't rape Olivia. She consented." Max exited the cell and pulled himself up to his full height, towering over the detectives. He looked down his bloodied nose at Elliot and sneered. "I have a good mind to sue you for police brutality," he threatened.

"After what you did to my partner, you deserved it, scum!" Elliot made as though to lunge at Max but held himself back under the watchful eye of his captain.

"Elliot, go home!" Cragen shouted. "Now!"

Cragen was pissed. He had to clean up this cluster fuck, protect Fin and Elliot, make sure Olivia was okay, and prevent a lawsuit from the Nelligan jerk. He rubbed his hands over his smooth head, trying to plan his next move. "Fin, take care of Mr. Nelligan's paperwork. Mr. Nelligan, you're free to go, with our apologies." The Captain clenched his teeth and swept out of the tombs. When the doors had shut behind him, he sagged beneath the weight of his position and responsibility. He looked like an old man.

* * *

Olivia finally began to relax. Melinda had reassured her, and helped her get her sanity back. She was in control of her decisions, and she wasn't going to let Huang or Max, or anybody bully her. While the rape kit had been rather humiliating and uncomfortable, at least it was over. She wondered if a doctor who usually dealt with live patients might have been a bit gentler, but going through unofficial channels was her best, no, only option now. She'd already taken her first dose of levonorgestrel and was feeling slightly nauseated but it wasn't too bad. Afterwards, she'd had a hot bubble bath, complete with scented candles, and was now relaxing in her jammies, sipping herbal tea. The TV was on, some stupid reality show dulling the edges of her anxiety and lulling her into television induced stupor.

The knock at the door didn't register at first. Olivia was in a drowsy twilight, existing halfway between the nonsensical yammering on the TV and her own dream world. She stretched out on her couch and moaned, then pulled the worn afghan over her head. _Knock, knock, knock. Tappity tap._

"Olivia?"

Elliot.

She opened her eyes and slowly sat up, wrapping the afghan tightly around herself, and trudged to the door. As was her habit, she checked the peephole. Yup, Elliot. She unlocked the chain and opened the door.

He entered her apartment with furrowed brows, wearing an apology on his face. "Did I wake you? I'm so sorry."

Olivia let him pass and shut the door behind him. "I was dozing in front of the TV. What time is it?" she croaked. Through bleary eyes, she followed him as he sat on the couch.

"It's past eleven. I'm sorry, Liv but I had nowhere else to go." Elliot twisted his wedding band and held his breath. "Earlier, you said I could crash on your couch."

"I …er, yeah, you can. But I thought you were going to sleep in the Cribs. Won't Kathy give you a hard time?" Olivia sank into the cushions beside Elliot and leaned her head back, then yawned.

Elliot swallowed hard and took a few shallow breaths. He stole a glance at Olivia, noting how exhausted she looked and he felt guilty. "Cragen told me to go home. He's pissed."

"Why? What did you do?" She turned to face him. "What did you do, El?"

"It's nothing. You should go to sleep; you're halfway there already."

"Actually, you woke me up. What's going on with you?" she persisted, head tilted as she studied him through narrowed eyes.

"I may have broken a suspect's nose," he admitted. "Can we leave it at that?"

"What suspect? What case were you working on?"

"Liv, you're on leave of absence. Don't worry about it."

"How did you know that?" Her head shot up and her tired eyes opened all the way. "Did Cragen tell you?"

Elliot cringed and let out a mirthful chuckle. "No, Liv, I, um, that is we, Fin and I, we were upstairs by the lockers and we found it."

"Found what?" Olivia swallowed hard and pressed her fingers to her temples.

"Huang's note." His treacherous words hung in the air between them like a bad smell. Olivia gasped and clutched her afghan tightly.

"You read that?" Tears sprang unwillingly from her eyes, and she bit down on her lip, to stop herself from crying. "What did you do?"

"Why didn't you tell me, Liv?" Elliot's concern for Olivia overrode the guilt he was feeling. He put his hand on her arm but she flinched and shrugged him off.

"There was nothing to tell!" Olivia stood up and looked out the window, her back to Elliot. "Whose nose did you break?"

"You know whose," he admitted.

She shuddered. "I can't believe you went behind my back and saw him. Did Fin lead you to him?"

"Yeah, but don't get mad at him. I forced it out of him."

"Forced, huh?" Olivia turned back toward him and sat on the couch. Her eyes were brilliant with suppressed rage, the dark irises melding with her pupils so that Elliot stared into an abyss of darkness when she glared at him. He shirked back.

"Liv, you have to understand …"

"No! I don't have to _anything_ ," she cried. "You had no right." She paused and then slammed her palm against her forehead. "Oh my god, how did Cragen know you busted Max's nose?"

"Because he was at the station."

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," she chanted. She hugged her arms around herself and began to tremble. "Cragen knows? Elliot, what did you do?" she gasped between erratic breaths.

"I was only trying to get you justice, Liv. I never meant to hurt you. You've got to believe me!" His voice cracked, "Please."

"I think you should leave," she said. "I can't deal with this right now. With you."

"But Liv!" Elliot reached out to comfort her but drew his hand back when he saw the warning flash in her eyes.

"I'm leaving," he told her, his voice quiet and gentle. "I fucked up, Liv. I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry too," she whimpered. "Please just go." Olivia faced away from him, wringing her hands. She heard his footsteps leading to the door, and the sound of the door closing behind him. She drew a deep breath and burst into tears.

Elliot stood in the empty corridor of Olivia's building. "Where the hell am I supposed to go now?" he whispered to himself.

 _A/N: Oh the pathos, the tragedy of it all. Writing when I have the flu makes for dark fic. Don't worry, it's always darkest before the storm. Wait. . ._


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: Dear reader, sorry for the incredibly long wait to update. Thanks for your patience if you're still reading! What can I say? Life, home renovations, work, parenting, and a bunch of pets. . aaaah. . need time to write.**_

"You look like hell, Stabler," Cragen pointed out the next morning. The Captain had gathered Fin and Elliot in his office for a follow-up.

"Yeah, well, I didn't have the best sleep," he said flatly. Elliot had spent the night at a cheap motel after Olivia had kicked him out. After seeing his first cockroach, he hadn't gotten much sleep, and he didn't have a change of clothes, so his shirt was wrinkled. Today, he needed to pack some things from the house while Kathy was out, as per the newly minted separation agreement.

"I just hope that Nelligan hump doesn't decide to sue you for police brutality," Cragen told him. "I'll protect you the best I can, but you and Fin pulled a real boner yesterday." The Captain rubbed the back of his neck, to ease the tension there.

"He's a bad egg, Cap," Fin said, frowning. "You didn't see how messed up Liv was when I picked her up from his room."

"Be that as it may, you were premature in your arrest, and without a complainant, you've got jack." Cragen shuffled some papers on his desk and cleared his throat. "I've got to go out for a bit. Fin, you and Munch are catching today. Elliot, clear up your paperwork and pack things from your house on your lunch hour. I'll be back in a couple of hours. That's it. You can go."

* * *

Olivia woke up bleary eyed, tired and nauseated. She'd taken her second dosage of emergency birth control and her belly roiled in rebellion. She couldn't stop thinking about Elliot's visit last night, and shuddered at the memory of his words, knowing that he'd broken Max's nose. Fin and Elliot's betrayal was a sick sucker punch to the gut. She needed to ream them in, so she picked up her phone, fingers hovering over the contact list. She stared at their names, hesitating between the two, unsure whose treachery was worse. Fin. Fin had promised not to say anything. That rat bastard. Elliot had found out by accident, and with his trigger-happy temper and impending separation, a fist to Max's nose was inevitable. She was relieved he hadn't tried to kill the man. But Fin had broken her trust. Olivia threw the phone down onto the sofa and wiped her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. Courage. She picked up the phone to call Fin when she was interrupted by a knock at her door.

Oh, not Elliot again. She took a deep breath and made her way to the door, and checked the peephole. Not Elliot. Olivia shrank back from the door. What was he doing here?

"Olivia, I know you're in there. I can hear you," the voice on the other side of the door said.

She opened the door slowly and let him in, then stood back to let him enter all the way. Her legs felt like weighted lead.

"I came to check in on you, Detective," Cragen told her. His eyes darted around her apartment before settling on her face. She was biting her lip and avoiding eye contact with him.

"Can I get you a cup of coffee?" she asked, trying to regain a sense of normalcy. Cragen never came to her apartment, and certainly not to check up on her.

"Sure, uh, thanks. Black, one sugar, please." They continued to play the charade of an ordinary visit in the quiet room. She made his coffee, entirely focused on the task at hand, unwilling to face his real reasons for being here. Carefully, she stirred the sugar into the black brew.

"Olivia." His voice was sharp and startled her. She dropped the spoon and it clanged loudly on the tiled floor. "We need to talk."

"I know," she said, faltering.

"We haven't really had the chance, and with everything that's happened, I wanted to make sure you were alright." Cragen took the coffee that Olivia handed him and sat down at her kitchen table. He gestured for her to join him. She sat beside him, fiddling with her table cover.

"How are you doing?"

She scoffed at the question. "I want to get back to work."

"I realize that, but George hasn't cleared you yet. And frankly, I'm out of the loop, hearing rumors, so I thought I'd get my information directly from the source."

"Rumors?" Olivia blanched. "What rumors?"

Cragen cleared his throat and took a sip of coffee. He peered at Olivia over the rim of his mug, then set it down. "Fin and Elliot arrested a man last night. A Max Nelligan."

"I know." She shuddered. "Elliot told me he may have broken the man's nose."

"Stabler's a hothead! He had no right, and frankly, he and Fin had no cause to arrest Nelligan. Unless …" The Captain let the word hang in the air like bait.

"Unless, what?"

"Unless you choose to press charges against him." Cragen fixed his eyes on Liv's. "Did he rape you, Olivia?"

Olivia gasped. She had not been expecting that, yet another sucker punch to the gut. "No!" she shouted with vehemence. "He did not rape me. Huang's already on my case about this, Captain. Dammit." She stood up and stormed out of the kitchen, Cragen fast on her heels. "And because of Huang, I had to get a rape kit so he'd clear me for work. You can ask Melinda for the results because she concluded that it was not rape. She found no evidence."

"Olivia, calm down," Cragen said. He furrowed his brow at Olivia's obvious distress; her cheeks were flushed, dark eyes flashing and her breathing had become erratic. He put a hand on her shoulder and she flinched. She was close to tears now and he didn't want to push her over the edge. "I'm sorry. I don't know what you went through the other night, but whatever it was, Fin was very affected by what he saw. Dr. Huang came the conclusions that he did based on what you told him. I'm not pulling this out of my ass."

She looked at her captain through tear-filled eyes and sniffled loudly. "I got drunk and made a stupid mistake. I followed Nelligan back to his hotel room, and we had sex. Okay? And I regretted it. Badly. When Fin came to get me, I was completely inebriated and remorseful. I'm not going to press charges because there's no case."

Cragen nodded. "That's up to you. I only wanted to check in and make sure you're alright. But clearly, you're not."

"I want to work, Captain. Sitting here, doing nothing. . I'm going to go stir crazy. And I already did what Huang asked me and got the rape kit. Not because I was raped," she clarified, "but because he made it a condition of my return to work."

Cragen pondered her words. "About your return to work …can we talk about that?"

"Yes, please!"

The Captain took a deep breath before speaking. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think the Tess Morgan case prompted you to drink too much, and it was the catalyst for your _mistake_ with Nelligan." He waved his hand when she opened her mouth to respond. "I'm not finished. For years, you've worked SVU, and Olivia, you've been great. I mean, terrific. You and Elliot have a high close rate, you're a thorough investigator and you demonstrate true compassion to the victims."

"Thank you. I love my job." She fixed her gaze on Cragen's face, waiting for his "but". Her hands became clammy and she swallowed hard.

"However," he continued. "Most detectives work SVU for two years max. Cassidy didn't even make it one full year, neither did Jeffries. You and Stabler are the exception here."

"Munch and Fin have also been working SVU for longer than two years," Olivia reminded him.

"I know, but John is already so jaded and he's busy working on his Sergeant's qualification. Fin hasn't worked it as long as you, and he's still okay, despite his dumbass move yesterday."

"Are you saying that I'm not okay?" she asked him.

"Yes, that's what I'm saying," he told her.

She bit her lip and eyed her Captain through narrowed eyes. "So, I'm supposed to sit on my ass and do nothing? For how long?"

"I didn't say that, did I?"

"Yes, but …"

"If you'd let me finish, Detective, I think you might be interested in what I have to say."

She nodded her head. "I'm all ears, Captain."

"I'd like to send you on a course. Given the fast changing technology and the growth of cyber-crimes, the Academy is recruiting experienced officers to train in computer crime prevention and apprehension."

"Computers?"

"Yes, cyber-crimes are a huge problem right now, and you've got a good head for computers and technology. Of all my detectives, you're certainly the most qualified. Plus, you have a university degree, which not all of your colleagues have. It's a necessary perquisite. You wouldn't be sitting on your ass."

"What about my job?" Olivia asked. She ran her hands through her shaggy bangs and pushed them off her face.

"There's an opening in Computer Crimes," he told her. "I think it's a good option for you."

"But I want to stay in SVU, Captain. Please," she pleaded with him, swallowing the lump that began to form in her throat.

Cragen stepped closely toward Olivia and placed his hands on her shoulders. He locked eyes with her before speaking. "Olivia, given your loss of objectivity and recent mistakes, I want you to take a break from SVU. Computer Crimes specifically asked for you last month. I was holding off on mentioning it, but now the course seems like a perfect solution to your leave of absence. It's a month long intensive course, followed by on-the-job training."

"But Cap …"

"It's not a request, Olivia."

* * *

Elliot Stabler was having a supremely shitty day. The threat of a police brutality lawsuit hung over his head, he was buried in mundane paperwork, and Kathy had reminded him to go home and pack some clothes while she was out. He had no fucking clue where he was going to spend the night. The cockroach infested motel, while handy, cheap and close to work was simply too filthy. Staying at a real hotel would be too expensive, and he couldn't find an apartment in one day.

At the house, Elliot took a much needed shower, then carefully packed a couple of suitcases, ensuring that he had all of his shoes, shaving supplies and enough clothes for a few weeks. Kathy hadn't even given him the chance to say goodbye to the twins. On his way out, he looked around the kitchen, the living breathing heart of that house, one last time. Photos of his kids adorned the refrigerator and he stopped to stare at them, before removing his favorite one of all four kids posing together, and pocketing it. With heavy feet, he carried the suitcases to the car and slunk out feeling like an intruder.

The icing on his crap cake was last night's fight with Olivia. He needed to make things right with her, and soon. Instead of heading directly back to the precinct, he decided to make a quick stop at Olivia's first, assuming she'd be home. Despite her anger at him, there was no way she could make him feel any worse than he already did.

He hesitated in the building's doorway, gawking at the intercom system before dialing her buzz code. Her voice sounded sleepy when she answered. "Who is it?"

"Liv, it's me. Please, let me up."

Silence.

He waited a moment before dialing her code again, then clasped his hands as he waited for her to respond. The inner door unlocked with a loud trill and he pushed through it into the lobby.

Elliot opted for the stairs, quickly climbing the four flights to Olivia's apartment. When he arrived at the landing, she was already waiting for him, standing in the doorway.

"Hi," he said, a bit breathless from his run up the stairs.

"Come on in, El." She let him in and closed the door behind him.

"Thanks for letting me up," he said. "After last night, I wasn't sure you'd want to see me today."

"I don't, not really, but I'm so angry with you, Elliot … and I need to say it!"

Elliot's shoulders slumped. "So, you want to yell at me? Go ahead. I deserve it." He walked slowly toward her couch and sunk into the cushions, then turned to look at her with a wretched look on his face.

Olivia sat next to him and regarded him through narrowed eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that yelling at you would feel like kicking an injured dog right now?"

Elliot sighed loudly and put his face in his hands. He lifted his face and looked at Olivia, large blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Liv, I'm so sorry that I arrested Max without your permission and that I was all up in your business. You wanna ream into me? Go for it."

She opened her mouth to speak but shut it again. "I can't. You …you look like you're about to cry, El. What the hell happened?"

"I moved out just now, and I'm essentially homeless. And …"

"And?"

Elliot sniffled before continuing. "And you're pissed at me, and I'm worried about you, dammit. Why didn't you talk to me? Why the hell did you follow that asshole back to his hotel room, Liv? Why did you put yourself in that situation?" His voice rose with each uttered word, which he punctuated with a slam to her coffee table. Olivia jumped. Sad Elliot morphed into angry Elliot too quickly, and she fed off of his emotions.

"Put myself in that situation? You're blaming me?" She stared at him incredulously. "Oh I don't need this right now." She stood up and walked away from him, toward her bedroom.

He followed, and reached her before she could slam the door in his face. "Go away, Elliot."

"No. I'm not leaving this time."

"I don't need your judgement, not after what you did. I'm the one who's mad at you, not the other way around," she shouted.

"I'm not mad at you, woman!" Elliot was in frenzied state, alternating between grief, guilt and concern for his partner. And, if he let himself admit it, jealousy. Jealousy because she'd gone to Max's bed without much forethought, followed by anger again because Max had hurt her.

"You sound mad," she said, eyeing his jutting chin and flushed face.

"Olivia, I'm angry at Max, not at you. He hurt you." Elliot's voice cracked, and he looked away from her. "I can't bear to see you hurt," he said in a choked voice.

And Olivia couldn't bear to see Elliot's pain either. She lay a trembling hand on his forearm and slid her fingers to his clenched fists. With a gentle touch, she caressed his hands, smoothing them until his palms opened. "You've got to calm down, El. You're under enough stress at home without worrying about me." She lifted his hand and studied the bruise on his knuckles. "You got that punching Max?"

"Yeah."

She nodded but said nothing. Instead, she cradled his injured hand to her mouth and pressed her lips to the purplish skin. "You should have stayed out of it."

"How could I? He ra_, er, hurt you. I couldn't let him get away with that." He gazed at her tenderly, his hand still in hers. "I'll always protect you; you're my partner."

Olivia dropped his hand and looked away from him. She choked back a sob before saying, "Cragen split us up. He transferred me to Computer Crimes."

"He did what?!"

She turned back to face him, tears spilling down her face. "I'm not your partner anymore, Elliot."

 _ **A/N: I'll try and update sooner. Feedback and reviews motivate me. Thanks!**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: I apologize for the long delay in updating this story. Thanks to you who are still reading!**_

 _A little recap first, shall we?_

 _Olivia dropped his hand and looked away from him. She choked back a sob before saying, "Cragen split us up. He transferred me to Computer Crimes."_

" _He did what?!"_

 _She turned back to face him, tears spilling down her face. "I'm not your partner anymore, Elliot."_

Elliot gaped at her and took a step back. "No, no, that's not right! How am I supposed to work without you by my side, Liv?"

She turned away from him and swiped at her tear-stained cheeks. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't reacted the way I did with Tess Morgan, none of this would have happened." Olivia bowed her head, continuing in a quieter voice. "I wouldn't have blindly followed that man to his hotel room because I wouldn't have gotten drunk." She faced him now, her cheeks aflame. "Don't you see? I've got issues, Elliot. Deep issues that go back to my childhood. Back to my conception."

"Olivia…" he tried, but she shook her head.

"Cragen said I wasn't okay. He said that to me, El." Her voice broke when she spoke his name.

"I don't believe that about you," Elliot told her. He stepped closer to her, holding her eyes captive with his clear blue gaze. "Liv, you're good at your job. You're a good cop. You're okay."

"I messed up."

"So did I, when I arrested Max and punched him in the nose. Cragen was pissed. He had to void that arrest in front of me, and apologize to that sleazebag for detaining him." Elliot shook his head and sighed deeply. "We're in this mess together, Liv."

"Because as far as Cragen's concerned, we're both fuck-ups?" she said. Olivia gave Elliot a side-way glance and watched his lips form a sardonic grin, matching hers.

"I know _I_ am, but you're not a fuck-up, Liv. You've had some difficulty with a case and it became too personal."

"Hence this forced distance." Liv walked over to the sofa and sunk into it. "You're going to be assigned a new partner, El."

"That's just great," he moaned, as he went to sit next to her. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm losing everybody." He looked so lost when he met her eyes again. "You and this job—you were all I had left. And now …"

"Hey! I'm not leaving you, Elliot."

"I know it's not your _fault_ , Liv, but you'll be gone," he lamented.

What the hell. I'm right here. Even if we're not working together, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere!" she insisted, stabbing her finger into his bicep. She poked him again, harder this time. "See? Right here." Olivia was about to stab her index into Elliot's arm yet again but he was too fast, and grasped her slim fingers together.

"Stop poking me."

"I'm just trying to make a point."

"Very funny, Liv."

"No, it's not funny, Elliot. I'm not leaving you. I'm being transferred to Computer Crimes after finishing a course at the Academy. But I'm not moving. Besides, Computer Crimes is only two floors above SVU. We'll be in the same building." Olivia didn't pull her fingers from his hand; she interlaced them with his warm fingers instead, carefully avoiding the big bruise on his knuckles. They sat like that for a moment, suspended in time, hands laced together, each seeking reassurance and connection. Elliot looked down at their hands and his heart beat faster. Her warmth, strength and friendship were all conveyed by the simple act of hand holding. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this joined to another human being by a mere hand.

"I'm gonna visit you," he said. "And we'll still take turns bringing each other coffee, okay?"

"Okay, El."

* * *

 **Six Weeks Later**

Olivia finished her computer course at the Police Academy without much ado. Her sharp brain easily processed the new information and she completed her diploma with a strong A. Now, she was officially working in Computer Crimes, two floors above Elliot.

As for Elliot himself, he'd found a cheap, furnished apartment, a cliché for separated men. The _Shangri La_ was a tacky throwback to the early seventies, complete with brown shag carpeting and orange curtains. He now went home to a beige pull-out corduroy couch, tiny kitchenette and lime green bathroom with black mildew. He hated every inch of it but it was all he could afford on his detective's salary, while still maintaining his large family home in Queens.

At work, he had a new partner, a Bronx native named Vinnie who had moved up the ranks quickly in Homicide. The younger man was still a bit green, however, and Elliot couldn't help but be reminded of Cassidy. That is, if Cassidy had been Italian, and sporting a Bronx accent so thick, that Elliot had to ask himself to repeat things from time to time. Elliot got along decently with Bronx Vinnie, but the man wasn't Olivia, and he lacked a certain finesse when it came to interviewing victims of sex crimes.

On a hot Tuesday afternoon, Cragen called Elliot into his office. "Close the door," he said. Elliot complied and sat down across from his Captain.

"The ventilation system is on the fritz again," Elliot commented, wiping his damp brow with the back of his hand. Not only at the _Shangri La_ , but at work too. He groaned, sick of being always hot and sticky.

"Yeah, maintenance is working on it, but it's the entire building. Gets worse the higher up you go," Cragen told him.

"Poor Liv," Elliot remarked. "She must be sweltering up there, especially with all those monitors crammed into her work space."

"Hmmmm." Cragen leveled his gaze at Elliot and studied him for a moment. "You think about her a lot?"

"Well she is …I mean _was_ my partner for almost eight years. And she's still my friend."

"And you're wondering if she'll ever return to SVU," Cragen finished for him.

Elliot shrugged. "Is she?"

"I don't know," Cragen replied. "She's doing well in Computer Crimes, really getting the hang of it. Her new Captain is pleased with her and she's happy to be working while continuing Dr. Huang's therapy."

"But he's gonna clear her soon, isn't he?" Elliot asked, somewhat miffed. While happy that Liv's leave of absence had been replaced by her course, he wasn't happy with the slow pace of her therapy. And from the little she'd told him about it, he hadn't been able to ascertain whether or not she was getting anything out of it. On that subject, she remained elusive, always changing the subject.

"Again, I don't know," Cragen replied.

"Then why'd you call me into your office?" Elliot asked, furrowing his brow.

"I wanted your thoughts on Vinnie. How's the kid doing?"

"He's alright. Not great with the victims though. I think they miss having a female detective to talk to. And not for nothing, but I shouldn't have to tell Vinnie not to enter the examination room during a rape kit. His presence practically traumatized our vic, Tori Bell yesterday."

"I heard," Cragen said, his mouth disappearing into a thin line. He shook his head. "Dr. Russel called me to complain that my male detective showed up during the vic's pelvic exam."

"He's too green. The victims want Liv with them when they go through the trauma of a rape kit. She holds their hands, talks them through it, and wipes away their tears. She is so damned good with victims!"

"Until Tess Morgan," Cragen reminded him.

"Yeah, well, she's working on that stuff, isn't she?"

"Right now, Liv stays where she is. Her new Captain would kill me if I stole her back after Computer Crimes spent the time and money training her. Besides, it gives her a nice break from dealing with flesh and blood victims." Cragen rubbed his smooth head and sat up straighter. "You need to keep a close eye on Vinnie for the time being; make sure he's following protocol. He did fine in Homicide, and he's a thorough investigator. Had a decent close rate. He's just not used to working with live victims."

Elliot nodded, unsure what to reply. He was being asked to babysit his new partner, the Italian answer to Cassidy. An inadvertent sigh escaped his lips. Cragen dismissed him and he returned to his desk. Out of habit, he glanced up from his computer screen to check on his partner. Vinnie. Right. Elliot sighed again, more loudly this time.

"Everything ok, man?" Vinnie asked.

Elliot eyed the young Italian man thoughtfully. Vinnie always wore a leather jacket with black jeans and a black T-shirt. Head to toe black, from his thick dark hair, jet black eyes, down to his black leather boots. The man's skin was pale like untoasted bread, with about the same exposure to the elements. Had the man never seen the sun?

"Aren't you too hot in that jacket?" Elliot asked him. He'd already ditched his suit jacket, loosened his tie and rolled up the sleeves of this thin cotton shirt.

"Nah, I'm cool."

"Right."

Elliot crinkled his nose. No wonder the victims were uncomfortable. This guy appeared like a bizarre hybrid of the Fonz and a vampire. Next to him, Munch looked positively radiant. "Listen, I'm gonna go have lunch," Elliot began saying.

"With your lady friend upstairs?" Vinny replied, lacking only an _oooooh_ at the end of his taunting.

Elliot sighed a third time. "Yeah, I'm taking Liv out for lunch."

"So, when am I going to actually meet this chick?"

Elliot bristled at the question. His relationship with Olivia was personal, and their standing Tuesday lunch meant a lot to him. As well as he was able given the job, he always had lunch with Liv on Tuesdays. Tuesdays with Liv. Today would be their third consecutive week in a row. It was a chance for them to catch up over grilled cheese and fries. He needed to see for himself that she was doing well even if not by his side. Her well being meant more to him than his own need to have her there, but still it hurt. He missed their daily banter, the conversations spoken with their eyes only, digging through paperwork together late at night, and the scent of her warmed perfume teasing him. He especially missed her wide, generous smile, and the way her cute little nose rounded out at the tip.

"Stabler? Did I lose you?"

"Huh?" Elliot looked up at Bronx Vinnie's quizzical expression.

"Are you ever gonna introduce us?" Vinnie persisted.

Elliot considered for a moment, then nodded. "Yup. I'm taking you to meet her now. It's time you met Olivia Benson."

TBC

 _A/N: Perhaps our Liv can school young Vinnie about the victims. Again, sorry for the delay. Please review._


	14. Chapter 14

Olivia's tummy growled and she glanced at her watch for the seventh time that minute. Tuesday meant that Elliot was going to appear at her desk and take her to lunch. They always went to the same place, _Crumbs_ , a sandwich bar about a five minute drive from the precinct. This would be their third lunch together since she'd begun working Computer Crimes. While she appreciated catching up with him, and having that hour once a week to chat, she missed her partner. She missed her best friend, and she needed more than a Tuesday lunch over sandwiches.

She had so much to tell him today. Olivia was using her newfound cyber knowledge to investigate perps. She'd gone deep inside the dark net and learned a few new things about Father Shannon, the priest who had raped Tess Morgan. Her quest to seek justice for _Diana,_ the baby born of rape and murdered, had never been quenched. And while Father Shannon was awaiting trial for rape, Olivia had some ideas about keeping him locked away even longer. She needed to discuss the facts with Elliot. He had to be the one to call Casey afterwards and do the legwork. She'd help him as much as she could, of course.

"Hi Liv, you ready for lunch?" The familiar voice brought an instant smile to her face. Olivia looked up and balked, for a strange man stood next to her partner, er, to her Elliot, her friend.

"Who's this?" she asked, as casually as she could. Olivia grabbed her purse out of her desk drawer and stood up, an inch taller than the pale man in black. A man wearing a leather jacket during a heatwave.

"Thought it was time you met my new partner. Liv, this is Vinnie Rocca. Vinnie meet Olivia Benson."

"Nice to meet you, Olivia," Vinnie said with puppy dog enthusiasm. He grabbed her hand and pumped it vigorously. "Finally, I get to meet the infamous Olivia Benson." He cracked a wide smile and continued holding her hand in his sweaty one.

 _Infamous?_ Olivia pulled her hand away and wiped it on her pants. "Hello Vinnie." She looked at Elliot with a silent question in her eyes. _Is he joining us?_

 _Yes._

 _I wish he wasn't._

 _Sorry, Liv._

Their entire conversation was spoken with their eyes only, but they understood each other too well to have to use words. Olivia forced a smile on her face but it didn't reach her eyes. Her people reading meter was instantaneous. She either took a liking to somebody or disliked them upon first sight. Vinnie had the latter effect on her. Probably not his fault, she thought, for she was upset that he got to be Elliot's new partner. She wanted her old job back and this person was now an obstacle.

"Where to?" she asked. She glanced up at Elliot and held his eyes for a few beats. _Please don't take him to Crumbs. That's our spot._

Elliot nodded at her unspoken request. "How about Aroma Deli? They've got a decent pastrami on rye there."

"Best mustard ever, Stabler. Let's go." Olivia linked her arm into Elliot's, something she'd never done before. But screw it, she was feeling possessive of her partner, er, her Elliot, her friend. His muscled arm felt like granite in her hands and she squeezed it appreciatively. Liv smiled up at him, and this time her eyes lit up with it. "I need to talk to you … after," she told him, leaning in, her mouth close to his ear. She didn't want Vinnie to hear. Didn't want him near her. Didn't want to acknowledge the existence of her so-called replacement.

Twenty minutes later, after some inconsequential banter to pass the time, Vinnie spoke. "So, Olivia, I guess you don't miss SVU, huh?" A piece of pickle flew out of his mouth, narrowly missing Olivia's head. They were seated at the deli on red vinyl chairs, in a booth by the window.

"What do you mean?" she replied, eyes narrowing. She took a gulp of her iced tea and frowned at the too-pale man facing her.

"I mean the rape victims." Vinnie finished chewing and swallowed. "Ya know …" He looked at her, trying to convey his meaning.

"No, I don't know. Why don't you enlighten me, Vinnie?" Olivia kept a vigilant eye on his big mouth, checking for errant pieces of food that might be spat out while he spoke.

Vinnie looked at Elliot beseechingly but the detective just smirked as if to say, you're on your own pal.

"What _about_ the rape victims?" Olivia pressed. She'd put her turkey sandwich down and eyed Vinnie with suspicion and more than a little judgement.

"Just that they're, um, ya know, so needy."

Liv's eyebrows shot up. "They're needy?"

"Uh Vinnie, maybe you should shut up now," Elliot advised. He looked across the table at the young man and shook his head slightly.

"I only mean that dead victims don't ask anything of you," Vinnie said, clarifying.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Olivia stood up, sandwich forgotten. "What the hell are you doing working SVU?" She leaned against the table, white knuckled, and lowered her voice. "Where's your damned compassion?"

"Liv?" Elliot stood up and grabbed her arm. "He's learning, Liv. We were all green." He stood right next to her, in her space.

"You're defending him?" Olivia pushed Elliot aside, then addressed Vinnie directly. "You've got a lot to learn about rape victims," she said. "If you're not able to help them when they're needy, then you shouldn't be in this unit."

"But I do help them, Olivia. I do. I try to stay with them during their rape exams!" Vinnie's voice was too loud in the small deli and patrons turned to look at him, half masticated food hanging from their open jaws.

"Shhhhh!" Elliot hissed.

"You do what?" Olivia sat back down, no slumped really, into the vinyl seat.

"I do what you did. I stay with them. Well, the doc kicked me out last time," he whined.

Olivia gaped at Elliot. "What the fuck?" she whispered, aware of curious ears all around them.

"Isn't that my job?" Vinnie asked. "They said you were good at that stuff. I'm trying to follow in your footsteps, Olivia, but you have large shoes to fill."

Olivia pressed her hands against her forehead and covered her eyes. "You're a man. How stupid are you? No female rape victim wants a man in the exam room with her."

"It won't happen again, Liv. Cragen's aware," Elliot reassured her. Though right now, he wanted to smack his new partner for being such a moron.

She peered up at Elliot through her fingers. _He needs to go_. Her thoughts blared at Elliot as her dark eyes shimmered with anger.

 _I know._

* * *

After the remainder of their lunch was eaten in awkward silence, Elliot escorted Vinnie back to his desk and told him to wait there and keep his big mouth shut. Vinnie shrugged and dug into paperwork, oblivious to his imminent termination.

"Where are you going now?" the younger detective prodded when he saw Elliot heading toward the exit.

"None of your business."

"Back to your girlfriend? Man, she had a lot of nerve. She's harsh."

"Shut up, Vinnie. I mean it, shut your face." Elliot glared at him, blue eyes menacing.

"Yeah, whatever." Vinnie shrank back and pretended to busy himself. He caught Munch and Fin staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing," they both said in unison.

* * *

Elliot took the stairs to Olivia's new office space. It was hot in the stairwell and he was sweating even more by the time he reached her desk. He grabbed a tissue from a box on her desk and wiped his face and neck.

"Wow, two visits in one day. Is Goth guy with you?" She peered around the corner, relieved that Vinnie wasn't there.

"No. I'm gonna talk to Cragen about him. I mean I knew he was green but the things he said today …god, how did I end up with such an idiot for a partner?" Elliot perched his bum on the edge of Olivia's desk, like he used to do when they worked together. He missed having her desk facing his. Two floors up was too far away. "I guess he was right about one thing though."

"Oh?" She looked up at him and handed him another tissue to mop his sweaty brow.

"You left really large shoes to fill, Liv. I don't think anybody can fill them adequately."

"Oh El," she let out, eyes moistening with emotion. "I want to come back."

"I know. I want you. Er, back." Elliot flushed at his little slip.

"Can we go somewhere and talk?" he asked her, suddenly aware of her colleagues.

"Yeah. How about our old chat place?"

Elliot knew she meant the roof. "Maybe it'll be cooler up there," he said. They made their way to the elevators.

"One can hope. I can't wait to strip my clothes off."

Elliot's eyes widened. "Huh?"

"I mean, I mean, undress and take a cool shower later, when I get home," she stammered, and a warm blush like a rose blooming crept up her cheeks.

In the elevator, they avoided looking at each other. When they got to the roof, they both exhaled. "Feels a bit cooler up here," Elliot said. A warm breeze blew over the building but at least it wasn't stagnant, humid air. There was movement in the treetops and though the wind wasn't cool, it acted like a clothes dryer on their damp skin.

"Oh man, my sweat needs to evaporate!" Elliot exclaimed. "Sorry Liv, but I gotta do this." He loosened his tie and flipped it over his head, letting the material mop the sweat on his forehead.

"You're apologizing for looking like you're partying in the 80's?" she asked. Her mouth curled into a grin and she chuckled at the sight of him, wearing his tie around his head. "You are so 1984, Stabler."

"That's the year I got married. Trust me, I wasn't partying anymore."

"You were just a kid," she said.

"The day after my eighteenth birthday, with a pregnant wife, a brand new high school diploma and an enlistment in the army."

"Wow." Olivia thought back to 1984. She'd been sixteen years old, dating Mark, fighting with her mother, and obsessed with Duran Duran.

Elliot unbuttoned his shirt. "Just needed my tie out of the way so I could open my shirt and dry off. You don't mind, do you?" He opened his shirt wide and flapped the sides out. "Pit stains, ugh."

"Huh?" Olivia looked at him, unaware of any pit stains. His shirt was wide open and she couldn't help but stare. Elliot had been working out, that was clear. He must have amped up his weight lifting because he was ripped, strong, with defined pecs and killer abs. She licked her lips.

"Oh this feels good," he said. He closed his eyes and faced the wind, letting the warm gusts of air dry him off. Elliot took a deep breath. "So," he began, "you told me earlier that you needed to talk to me."

"Yes!" She turned to face him, trying to avoid glancing at his toned chest. "I found out some dirt on Father Shannon. Working in cyber-crimes can pay off."

"What did you learn?"

"He takes photos of girls, students at _Sorrowful Virgin_. Lots and lots of them. And he shares them on pedophile sites."

"What kind of pictures?"

"Must have had cameras hidden in the change room because they're of girls changing and showering, naked. I think we need to get a warrant and check out the girls' bathrooms in that school."

"What a prick! But hey, great work! I'll call Novak. Thanks Liv, I think you just gave the defense a huge boost. That'll put the final nails in the asshole's coffin."

"I couldn't let it go," she said. "I needed to investigate him and I just knew something would turn up." She unbuttoned the top button of her blouse, then the second one. She felt almost giddy with delight. Father Shannon was going down. A warm breeze caressed the tops of her breasts and she shivered.

"What are you doing?" Elliot blinked hard and swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

"I need to cool off too. My office is a furnace. I'm just evaporating like you were."

"Yeah but …"he trailed off, gasping audibly with the pop of her third button. Her golden skin, slick with sweat shone in the afternoon sunlight. He could see the top of her lacy white bra, barely containing the heavy breasts that strained against it. Elliot gulped, unable to tear his eyes away.

Olivia made haste and quickly unfastened the remaining buttons. "If you can face the wind with an open shirt, so can I. I've got a bra on." She flapped out the sides of her shirt like she'd seen Elliot doing minutes earlier. Silence. She turned around and saw him gawking. Saw the moment his pupils dilated in the clear blue eyes, turning them dark with desire, and her heart pounded in response.

"El," she croaked.

They stared at each other, eyes dipping down to glistening, exposed skin. Olivia could feel her nipples harden despite the heat outside, because a new heat was asserting itself within. Ever since her horrible night _-but not a rape-_ with Max, sex had been the furthest thing from her mind. She'd avoided it, even avoided thoughts about it. But right now with her open shirt, the warm wind stroked her bare cleavage and belly causing goosebumps to appear on her skin. Sensual need was like a living, breathing entity, blowing in a hot breeze through her very being. And Elliot was beautiful, perfect and strong. She pulsed with the need to touch him, to inhale his scent, and took a small step toward him.

He turned away first and cleared his throat loudly. "I'm, uh, gonna call Casey about that warrant." He hastily buttoned up his shirt and refastened his tie to its proper position. "Then, I've got to deal with, um deal with, um what's his name?"

"Vinnie." Olivia slowly buttoned her shirt, noting that Elliot was keeping his eyes from her.

"Right, Vinnie."

* * *

Max Nelligan thought of himself as a modern day Casanova. Ever since his seduction of the beautiful Olivia, and subsequent hasty retreat from New York City, he knew that he could get away with certain things, certain ways of seducing women. In the end, he'd decided not to press charges against the hot headed policemen because getting home was a priority and he didn't want his wife, Eleanor to learn of his infidelities.

The second time he seduced a beautiful woman was a couple of weeks after returning to Delaware. By then, the swelling and bruising around his nose had disappeared. He sat at a bar watching the women in the room with him. He observed how much they drank, who they were with, and which ones of them appeared to be lonely or distraught. It didn't take him long to zero in on a leggy brunette with tanned skin. He had a type now, though if circumstances dictated he seduce a petite blonde, he wouldn't turn her away. The brunette was lovely, though not as lovely as Olivia had been. This woman had long hair, clear hazel eyes, and had been nursing a drink for the past half hour while checking her watch repeatedly. He asked the bartender to send her a drink, and when she accepted it, he sidled up to her.

"I'm not going to use a line on you, because I can tell you're much too intelligent for that," he said, full of confidence. Max knew he was handsome and that women were suckers for his height, clear blue eyes and dimpled smile. He turned his charm up to the max, leading with those dimples.

"Thank you for the wine," the woman replied. "I'm Hannah."

"Hello Hannah, I'm Mark." He shook her hand and sat next to her. He'd only ever be Mark when seducing women, because it reminded him of his night with Olivia, and because he wasn't stupid enough to use his real name anymore.

After a few drinks loosened her tongue, Max learned that Hannah had been stood up by an internet date. He shook his head in disbelief. "It's his loss, Sweetheart. And my gain." He ordered her another drink. However, he did not want a repeat of what had happened in his hotel room in New York. He could do without the vomit and wouldn't push a woman to drink to excess. Instead, he slipped a few drops from a vial into Hannah's drink when she went to freshen up. When she returned from the Ladies', he chatted with her and charmed her while she drank from the tampered drink.

Max took note of the haze forming in Hannah's hazel eyes. She had trouble keeping them open. "Hey, you've had a few too many. You need to lie down." Acting concerned and gentlemanly, he gripped the young woman's bicep and forced her to a standing position. He knew he didn't have long before she wouldn't be able to walk at all. "I've got a room upstairs, babe."

 _ **TBC**_

 _ **A/N: Reviews are highly appreciated. Got lots of threads to tie up and tie together. It's coming. . it's coming. . .thing is, I also have an idea for a new story. . . but I need to finish this one first. Or, do I?**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: Dear readers, I apologize for the lengthy wait in updating. What can I say? Life gets in the way of fiction sometimes. Oh and excuse this Canadian for getting any American court details wrong.**_

 _ **One Month Later**_

Elliot eyed his newest partner warily. Vinnie Rocca had not gone gently into that good night. The pale young man had whined and complained but really, what choice did Cragen have but to transfer him yet again? He was now on traffic duty and mightily pissed, the echo of his departing f-bombs making it clear as glass.

Detective Mac Tate wasn't so bad, Elliot thought to himself. A vast improvement over Vinnie, for sure. He studied her, thinking of her abilities. She was a champion of women's rights, victim's rights and strong as steel. With salt and pepper hair shaved into a buzz cut, a strong jaw and firm handshake, he'd mistaken her for a man initially. Mac claimed she was used to it and didn't care. She was strong, confident, and completely at ease in her own skin. And she had experience, having worked Brooklyn SVU for a few years already. Elliot knew she had his back, but still, she wasn't Olivia. They'd worked a few cases together now and things had gone well.

As for Olivia, Elliot was going to meet her at the courthouse to hear the jury's verdict for Father Shannon. The computer evidence she'd uncovered had been enough for a warrant to search the school's locker room. CSU had found insidiously hidden cameras in the showers and general changing areas. Distribution of child pornography charges in addition to the rape charges, made for a strong case against the priest. Casey had eviscerated him during cross-examine and Elliot had no doubt he was going to be locked away for a long time. It wasn't a moment he wanted to miss. Especially since Olivia was going to be there.

* * *

Olivia sat in the courtroom, nails fisted into sweaty palms. She'd attended a large portion of Father Shannon's trial, and had testified about her computer discovery of his child porn collection and the photos he'd taken of girls changing and showering at _Sorrowful Virgin_ high school. She'd also had to testify about finding Tess's dead baby in that bathroom stall all those months ago. Images of baby _Diana_ sometimes came to her, unbidden, usually in the middle of the night. It seemed to Olivia that her emotions were always at the surface, threatening to erupt, as from a heavy rain cloud. The weight of her grief and stress over the last few months were taking their toll, and doing this bit to help in court was one way she could lessen the pain and make things right.

She'd avoided Tess's eyes during her testimony and had maintained a respectful distance away from the girl throughout the trial. However, the girl's swift glances in her direction hadn't gone unnoticed. When Olivia had testified against Father Shannon, she'd been rewarded with a glimmer of hope in the young girl's face.

Now, she waited for Elliot. He had promised to join her today to hear the outcome of the trial. She swivelled her head in the direction of the entrance every few moments, worried that he would miss the reading of the verdict.

"Did I make it in time?" Elliot arrived breathless and sweating in his courtroom suit. "Oh man, this heat is killing me. I just ran up the courthouse steps."

"Relax, El, the air conditioning is on. Take a breather." Olivia handed him her water bottle and watched as he took a few noisy gulps. "The jury's finished deliberations," she informed him. "We won't have to wait much longer."

"They better find that asswipe guilty," he declared, wiping excess water from his mouth. "I mean on Tess's testimony alone, they have enough. Adding your damning evidence with those photos can only seal it, eh?"

"From your mouth to God's ears." Olivia stole a quick glance at Tess Morgan. The girl sat huddled next to her mother, worried eyes trained on the juror's side entrance while her knee bounced in tandem with her jangled nerves. Tess's plea deal had her in therapy, and doing community service. Olivia's anger toward the girl had been replaced with compassion some time ago now. Huang had been pleased to hear it during one of their therapy sessions, as the change in emotions signalled a certain healing within Olivia herself.

"Here they come," Elliot said. He alerted Olivia to the jurors' return. They both sat up straighter and watched the members of the jury silently filing into their seats. The jury, composed of seven women and five men, of whom eight members were parents themselves, gave away nothing as they took their places.

"Court is back in session," Judge Donnelly announced. She looked to the jury and asked, "Has the jury reached a verdict?"

"We have, your Honor," the foreman replied. A dad himself, the fortyish man stood up and cleared his throat loudly.

"Will the defendant please rise?" the judge said. Father Shannon stood on shaky legs. He grabbed the table before him for support and gulped audibly as he faced the judge. His lawyer stood beside him, looking expectantly at the jury.

"On the count of rape in the first degree, how does the jury find?" Donnelly asked.

"We find the defendant guilty," the foreman said.

Olivia smiled and she clutched Elliot's arm. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Tess was grinning.

"On the count of distribution of child pornography, how does the jury find?"

"We find the defendant guilty," the foreman repeated.

"And finally, on the count of unlawful surveillance, how does the jury find?" Donnelly asked.

"We find the defendant guilty, your Honor." The foreman took a deep breath and sat back down.

"The State of New York would like to thank the jury for its service," Donnelly told them. She fixed her glare on the priest. "The defendant will be placed in custody pending sentencing," Donnelly announced. Her voice was firm and her dark eyes serious. "Betraying the trust of your sacred position is repugnant," she told the shamed priest. "You were in a position of educational and spiritual authority over these girls, and they trusted you. You broke their trust in the worst way possible. Not only have you traumatized Ms. Morgan by raping her, but you compounded that crime by victimizing every single student who used the change room at _Sorrowful Virgin_ high school. Your crime is reprehensible. As a Catholic myself, I can only hope the church has you defrocked. However, that is beyond the scope of this courtroom." She gave him a steely stare and sniffed. "Having been found guilty of these crimes, your bail is revoked." She turned to the bailiff. "Please remove the defendant to Riker's until the sentencing hearing," she commanded.

After the trial reached its conclusion, and the courtroom began to empty, Elliot and Olivia started making their way to the exit. "I hope Donnelly sentences him to at least twenty years," Elliot said as they walked together, side by side.

"Did you see her face? She had nothing but contempt for him. I think she'll be tough in her sentencing," Olivia told him.

"I … I … hope so," a quiet voice piped up from behind the two detectives. Olivia swung around to face the speaker.

"Tess!"

"Um, Detective Benson, I, um, wanted to thank you," the girl stammered. A deep blush crept up her ivory complexion, clashing with her fiery red curls.

"Call me Olivia," Liv told her. She eyed the young rape victim with kindness and compassion, then took a deep breath and addressed Tess with courage. "Tess, I'm so very sorry about the way I spoke to you, er, before. It was completely unprofessional of me."

"You'd had a shock after finding … the baby in that bathroom," Tess said in a tremulous voice as she stared at her feet. "There isn't a day goes by that I don't hate myself for what I did to her. You should have charged me with murder." Tess began to cry, but as her mother approached, she warded her off with her hand. "No, mom! I need to do this." Her entire body shuddered with regret and grief.

"You were in shock, Tess. In denial about your pregnancy, about the rape. I didn't get that at first. But now I do. I understand." Olivia locked eyes with the tearful girl and swallowed the lump in her throat. "I really do understand about the denial, Tess." She placed a tentative hand on the girl's trembling shoulder. "Shhhhh, it's okay."

Tess studied Olivia's gaze and saw only empathy mirrored back to her. "You _do_ understand."

"Yes Tess, I do." Olivia felt Elliot's warm chest at her back and she inched closer to him. When his hand touched her back, she pressed into it for comfort, relishing in his strong, comforting presence behind her.

"Thank you for testifying about the pictures in the change room, and for finding those horrible cameras. Thank you for helping put him away." Tess pressed her fingers against her leaky eyes and swiped at the tears on her cheeks. "I'm in therapy, you know. And it's helping," the girl said. "I know what I did was wrong but I'm getting help."

"Good, I'm glad," Olivia said. "Therapy is very important for your recovery. You're a survivor, Tess. You're strong. You testified and helped put your rapist in prison. That can be an empowering experience and you will continue to heal."

Tess nodded and sniffled. "I'll make it up to my baby girl. Somehow I'll find a way," she sobbed. "She didn't deserve to die like that."

Olivia's own eyes glistened at the girl's words. "I … may I hug you?" she asked Tess, wanting so much to comfort the girl, and needing comfort herself.

Tess nodded and threw herself into Olivia's arms, clinging her tightly about the neck. "He's going to prison for what he did, but my baby doesn't get justice for what I did." The girl's tears fell onto Liv's shoulders as she continued to hold the woman forcefully.

"You have to forgive yourself, Tess." Olivia disentangled herself from the powerful hug so she could look Tess in the eyes. "I know that with therapy, you'll be able to get there. Maybe not now, but eventually."

"I hope so, Olivia. I hope so."

"Me too."

* * *

Elliot and Olivia were at _Crumbs_ even though it wasn't a Tuesday. Court had put them through the emotional wringer and they hadn't wanted to face their desks just yet.

"That chapter's finally closed," Elliot said. He took a big bite of his turkey club and chewed.

"Sentencing is next," Liv said, as she squirted ketchup on her fries.

Elliot raised his eyes to look at Liv. He'd been so touched by her moment with Tess, and he knew he had his old Olivia back. "You should tell Huang about how it went down with Tess today," he said. "You've come a long way since that night we found the baby."

"You think he'll reinstate me?" Liv said, afraid to be hopeful.

"I think you can do your job again, don't you?"

"Doesn't matter much what I think. He's the one who's got to clear me."

"Yeah, but you've been in therapy for weeks with him." Elliot took another bite, chewed and finished swallowing before continuing. "How's that going anyway?" He tried to ask with nonchalance but his words were stilted and awkward.

"It's going." Liv looked at her plate and pushed her fries around in the mound of ketchup. "I'm fine, El."

"Er, you told Tess that testifying was empowering. That she's going to heal," Elliot reminded her.

"Because it's true."

"Right." Elliot looked out the window and paused before turning back to face Liv. "And you said you understood about her denial. Denial of rape," he said flatly.

"Elliot, stop."

"Liv, you never dealt with it," he pressed. "Might be the thing that's holding you back with Huang."

Her eyes widened and she exhaled sharply. "You have no idea what Huang thinks!" She slammed her glass of iced tea on the table. "So don't go sticking your nose into things you don't understand." Olivia glared at Elliot, indignant outrage rolling off her in waves. "Don't you think you did enough when you punched Max in the nose?"

"No," he said matter of fact.

"What do you mean, _no_?"

"I mean the bastard deserved far worse. But Cragen voided the charges against him. And now he's free in Delaware or wherever. Wonder what he's up to?"

"Probably bragging about his business, trying to pick up women in bars and pubs. You should be glad he didn't press charges against you for busting his nose."

Elliot shrugged. "I know he got off easy, Liv. And I wish you could see it too."

"You're wrong, Elliot." She opened her purse, dug inside and threw a ten dollar bill on the table. "You can pay for your own sandwich," she added.

"Olivia …" he called to her retreating back. She didn't look back at him, and the unyielding rigidity of her posture warned him away.

* * *

After Hannah, he'd had Donna. Both women had been passed out cold, their bodies warm and yielding. He'd left them alone in the hotel beds, in rooms he'd paid for in cash using the name Mark Benson. Olivia remained on his mind with both tanned brunettes.

Now, he lay back in the bed and regarded his new conquest. What was her name? Oh yes, Erin. Erin was sweet, though a bit rounder than he usually liked. He'd been captured by her shaggy hairstyle, so reminiscent of Olivia's. Unable to control himself, he'd yanked too hard at her hair and been surprised when a chunk of it had come away in his hands. Erin hadn't even stirred. The hair pulling had excited him and he looked at the shiny brown lock in his fisted palm. He caressed the silky strands and inhaled them, the scent of peach shampoo tickling his nostrils. "Ummm, that's good," he whispered.

 _ **A/N: More to come. Please review.**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N: I am so sorry for the long delay in updating. Life is busy, and alone time at the computer is a rare commodity. Also, my house is under renovation and the construction is making me mental. If it's not the contractors, it's my child chasing my many pets, my pets, having to go to work. Aaah, the sound of silence and the pleasure of solitude. I update when I can. To those of you reading and reviewing, thank you!**_

He stretched out lazily in his own bed, grateful that his wife was already up and preparing breakfast. The tantalizing aroma of sausage and pancakes teased his nostrils, and he let out a contented sigh.

"Eleanor", he called out. No response. Good. With his wife otherwise occupied in the kitchen, Max crept over to retrieve his secret collection, a nondescript yellow interoffice envelope that he'd taped to the underneath of his sock drawer. Eleanor wasn't such a clean freak that she'd check there for dust bunnies. He strained his ears, satisfied that all he could hear was his wife's Oldies radio station turned up high.

Max gently removed the scotch tape from his envelope and peeled it away from the sock drawer's bottom. His heart began to pound and his mouth watered. He licked his moist lips and opened the envelope. Inside were three chunks of hair in varying shades of brown, each carefully wrapped in cellophane to preserve their scent. He opened the first one, Erin's, and inhaled the sweet aroma of peach shampoo. The hair was soft and natural, no highlights. Coming from such a young girl, twenty-two at most, this hair sample was his favourite. It was pure, untouched by chemicals. Max brushed the soft strands against his mouth, lightly tasting the silken tresses. "You were so sweet and juicy," he whispered to himself, remembering Erin's plump, young unconscious body. With reverence, he rewrapped the hair in its cellophane wrapper and took out the second sample.

This hair was darker than Erin's but chemically treated, dyed to remove grey. The woman it had belonged to had been older, perhaps fiftyish. She'd been attractive though, with dark, almond eyes and arched eyebrows. Every one of his conquests had reminded him of Olivia in some way. With Erin, it had been the hairstyle. With Valerie, the eyes and brows. Though none of the women compared to Olivia in any meaningful way, their vague similarities had sealed their fate. Valerie had been so easy to seduce because her husband had recently abandoned her. Initially, Max hadn't drugged her and she'd willingly slept with him. But then, he'd run into a problem; he needed the hair as a trophy. He'd drugged her glass of water after sex and waited until she was out before stealing a thick lock from her scalp. He took a whiff and winced, for it held the stench of cigarettes. Max quickly pressed the hair back into its cellophane and took out his third sample.

Number three was dirty blonde, or very light brown. Not the same shade as Olivia at all. But the woman, who hadn't given her name, had been tall and large breasted, like Olivia. Her face had been completely different, with light eyes and a large, bumpy aquiline nose. Not his type. But that night, he'd been short for time and he'd arrived at the bar too early, before the crowd really thickened. Sample number three had simply been relaxing after work, unwinding with a glass of wine when Max had approached her. She was not in the least bit interested. Told him he was barking up the wrong tree, and preferred women. Max didn't care. He was practically shaking with desire and need, unable to keep his urges at bay. He'd even slept with Eleanor the previous night, but the experience had disgusted him. Pale, chubby, and pimply Eleanor with her greying hair, hot flashes and vaginal dryness. He really didn't want to touch her anymore but desperation had forced his hand, or rather, his dick. Halfway through the act, he'd gone limp. Ever since that colossal embarrassment, he'd been seeking his next fix.

But number three rejected him. Max wasn't used to refusal, given his sexy dimpled, blue-eyed good looks. The unnamed woman had walked away from him. From him! The nerve of that bitch. She should have been grateful that he even wanted to sleep with her, given the hideous protrusion that was her excuse for a nose. Pride wounded, yearning unabated, and anger surging through his blood like wildfire, Max had gone after her. In the pub's small, badly lit back parking lot, he'd ambushed her, using his considerable height to overpower the tall, athletic woman. Grabbing her from behind, he'd smashed her head onto the hood of her car repeatedly, until she lost consciousness. Heedless of his surroundings, Max had ripped down her jeans and forced himself into her, using the car to support their weight. He'd done it so hard that she bled. An older gentleman walking to his car yelled at him and began to approach, cell phone in hand. Max ripped a large, bloody chunk of hair from the woman's head, yanked up his pants and ran. His long legs propelled him fast, before the old man could call 911.

Now as he sat, inhaling the woman's bloody hair sample, a surge of sweet adrenaline surged through Max's veins, and he felt himself grow hard. Fucking the lesbian against the car had been the most exciting moment of his entire life. Drugging women was no longer a challenge. Sleeping with willing women was okay, so long as he could have a souvenir lock. But nothing compared to the violence with which he'd violated his latest conquest. He'd beat her and won. And he'd gotten away with it, clear and free. No police sniffing around, and no accusations. After a few tense days, he was finally able to relax.

"Max, honey, your pancakes are ready." Eleanor called him from downstairs, her voice loud and sing songy. Max smiled.

"Coming, Dear."

* * *

"I'm saying that I'm much better now," Olivia insisted. She sat across from Huang in his office, hands clenched on her bouncing knees. "I made peace with Tess Morgan. She even gave me a hug. Ask Elliot."

Huang blinked slowly and assessed the women before him. She had lost weight, and her long hair was pulled back into a messy bun, the grown out bangs pushed off to the side. "Yes, Olivia, we've discussed this already. I'm very proud of the progress you made at the priest's trial. Because of what you found in the change rooms, in addition to your testimony against him, he's serving twenty-five years."

Olivia waited for him to speak more but the shrink was conspicuously quiet. "So …", she trailed off.

"So, how about we talk about _that_ night." After multiple weekly sessions with Olivia, George was no closer to getting her to open up about the night with Max Nelligan. So far, Olivia had opened up about her mother, and the horrible way she'd found out about her paternity. She'd covered 1981 to 1987 in great detail, going into depth about her teenaged years of neglect and abuse. She'd covered her engagement to Mark, and her mother's cruelty in forcing it to end. She'd rehashed her reasons for joining the Police Academy, and her early career in the nineties. She'd even touched on her first years in SVU, and explained the ways in which the job impacted her on both an emotional and psychological level. She'd laid it all bare for George.

"How about we talk about my reinstatement?" Olivia said. Her eyebrows raised in expectation, she looked Huang straight in the eyes.

"Why won't you talk about that night?" he volleyed back.

"I don't see how they're related, George."

"Well that's the burn then, isn't it?"

"I don't understand your meaning." Olivia blew out the air she'd been holding in, and her bangs flew up.

"Precisely." Dr. George Huang looked at the clock and closed his notebook. "Same time next week?"

Olivia gritted her teeth. "I'll call you."

She stood quickly, shoulders slumped, and marched out of his office.

* * *

Olivia sat at her desk in Computer Crimes, doing a painstaking check of a pedophile's online history. The images brought up by the search made her want to vomit. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, swallowing back the bile that threatened to rise. Whoever said that Computer Crimes had no live victims was an idiot. The children in these photos were real, and because of Olivia's background in SVU, she was assigned the most heinous pedophilic crimes to investigate. From behind a screen, in the dark, away from human contact.

What Olivia missed the most about SVU, besides her partner, were the interrogations. Catching the dirty prick and slapping the cuffs on him. Making the perp sweat in the interview room while she and Elliot each played their parts. Walking through the process with the victims, as they finally received justice. She also missed her role as crusader for victim's rights. She missed being the person who stood by them and helped them get their lives back together. Now, she was stuck looking at horrific images while the sun shone outside. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, averting her gaze from the screen. In autopilot mode, she quickly printed out what needed to be printed and sent the requisite emails. Then, with a prepared folder in hand, she walked over to the elevator, and went down the two floors to SVU, where Elliot and his partner were waiting for this information.

She arrived at Elliot's desk, folder in hand and unceremoniously plopped it down. "There you go. It's everything I could pull on the Ackerman case."

"Oh perfect timing, Liv. Thank you." Elliot opened the folder and blanched before quickly looking away. He thrust the offending images into his partner's hands. Mac Tate nodded and sat with the folder, studying it intently. Nothing fazed that woman.

"Good job, Olivia," Tate told her. "I see you found Ackerman's partner. Who are the vics? Their own kids?"

"That's up to you guys to investigate," she told them. "I did the preliminary for you, but Ackerman blanked out the kids' faces. He does, however, have two children who are the same ages as the victims. His partner, Ramos, has no children."

"Alright, we're gonna pick 'em up. We'll check to see if his kids are alright. Children's Services will have to be contacted, of course. Come on, Stabler, lots to do. Move your ass." Mac Tate stuffed her gun into her holster and put a jean jacket over her T-shirt.

"Wait!" Olivia grabbed Tate's muscled arm and frowned. "Please, when you interview the children, be gentle. If they're our victims, they're going to be so traumatized. Ackerman's wife is dead, and they might display loyalty toward him no matter what. He's their only remaining parent."

"We got this, Liv." Elliot stood beside her and patted her shoulder dismissively. "I've been doing this for a long time. Don't worry. And Mac's good with kids." He gave her a tight smile before throwing on his blazer.

"Yeah so long as my ugly mug doesn't scare them away," the older detective joked. "Thanks again for your help, Olivia. We'll keep you posted, kiddo." She glanced back at Olivia once before turning to her partner.

Olivia nodded and watched as Elliot and Mac Tate strode toward the exit, shoulder to shoulder, and strides matching. She sniffled and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. "Dammit," she hissed to herself.

* * *

Max Nelligan was feeling bold, and he itched to relive the thrill of his parking lot exploit. It had been almost two weeks now, and he was antsy as hell. He'd picked up a woman in the next town over but her willingness to sleep with him had rendered him impotent. Besides, she was a redhead, nothing like Olivia. She'd laughed at his limp member. Max had scurried away, ashamed and furious. A manic anger now coursed through him, a destructive force with a power of its own. He could no longer sublimate his desires. Looking at dirty magazines did nothing for him anymore. He didn't want Eleanor's sweaty body next to his, and he couldn't get it up for a one night stand. He was frantic.

Emboldened, because he'd gotten away with the parking lot attack, he decided to wander around the local college campus after dark. After doing this for two nights in a row and studying the students' walking patterns, he committed to a plan.

The next Wednesday evening, when Eleanor was at her small group bible study, Max crept onto the campus, lurking behind the main girls' dorm near the Refrectory. Girls hungry for an evening snack were chatting and walking back and forth between the two buildings. He watched and waited, his blood becoming hotter by the minute. Desire seared through his crotch, turning his brain to mush.

The girl was walking alone, bagel still in hand, stuffing her face while she walked. In her free hand, she carried a pile of books, precariously balanced on her hip. She was oblivious to her surroundings, focused on her bagel, with a dreamy look on her young face. Max scanned the area and giggled to himself because she was alone. Most of the other girls had been walking in groups, or had been on cell phones, or at least paying attention as they walked. But this girl was a dreamer. He leapt out of the bushes and grabbed her, slamming the half eaten bagel into her mouth, gagging her with it.

She didn't struggle much; the element of surprise, combined with Max's superior height and strength put her at significant disadvantage. He simultaneously pushed and pulled at her, knocking her books to the ground in the scuffle. She was an easy target, too easy. Getting her behind the treeline was so simple; she practically walked there by herself. With widely terrified dark eyes, she silently begged Max for mercy. He responded by shoving the bagel further into her mouth until she couldn't breathe. He beat her mercilessly about the head, until he became aroused, then violently raped her. She'd stopped fighting him and was no longer moving at all. She wasn't breathing either. Max stared, blinking slowly at the girl, noting her unresponsiveness, her total silence. He quickly checked her pulse and gasped. Nothing. His hands began to shake and he let out a quiet moan of desperation.

"Who's there?" A group of girls walked together in unison, worried about the sounds coming from behind the treeline. The four of them gaped at the sight before them. The dead girl was stripped naked from the waist down, her legs spread eagle. Max was hovering over her, his pants down. One girl screamed. Another took a picture with her cell phone. The third girl called 911.

Max came to his senses when the flash of the iPhone hit him in the face. He yanked up his pants and ran. He ran faster than he'd ever run in his life. He ran for his life.

* * *

Later that night, Max packed his things while his wife was sleeping. He knew they were looking for him. The blurry photo of him had made the late night news. They were looking for a murderer. But they didn't understand. Max hadn't meant to kill her. The stupid girl had choked to death on her own bagel. If she hadn't been eating that crap before bed, she'd still be alive. Max silently chanted this to himself this over and over again when the guilt began to torment him. Fear, however, was a greater motivator than guilt for his escape. He needed to disappear. And he couldn't do that in Dover, Delaware.

Max grabbed a box of his wife's dark hair dye—the one she didn't use anymore now that she was embracing her grey-and threw his suitcase in the car. New York. He was going to New York, so he could vanish in the crowd.

New York, home of Olivia Benson. He gripped the steering wheel and licked his lips in anticipation.

 _ **Please R &R. I will try to update sooner, folks. **_


	17. Chapter 17

Olivia sat at her desk, her mind lost in her thoughts rather than on the screen in front of her. With unfocused eyes, she gazed at the bright computer display, with a zoned out look on her face.

"Hi, er, Olivia?" It was Elliot's partner, Mac Tate. She'd appeared seemingly out of thin air and now stood at Olivia's desk.

"Mac! Um, what can I do for you?" Olivia blinked a couple of times, stood up and stretched. Any excuse to stand would do.

"We picked up Ackerman, and we have his kids in Interview." Mac rubbed the nape of her neck and looked around the room.

"Do you think it's the kids from the photos?" Olivia asked her.

"Definitely." Mac's face contorted, her lips turned downward and her eyes began to well up. "It's them. They're completely traumatized."

Olivia's eyes widened. She had been under the impression that Mac Tate was tough as nails and dispassionate. "Those poor kids." Olivia shook her head and stared at her shoes.

"Do you think you could, er, talk to them, Olivia? They're scared of Stabler, and they're not too comfortable with me either. I just don't come across as a maternal figure, ya know?" Mac looked at the other detective, her expression pleading.

Liv nodded. "What about Cragen? He doesn't want me up there until Huang clears me."

"He authorized it. It's one interview. He knows you're great with our littlest victims, Olivia. I mean your reputation precedes you. They need a mother figure of sorts, and Elliot says that's you."

Olivia flushed at the compliment. "Lead me to them, Mac."

* * *

Elliot watched Olivia and the Ackerman children through the double sided glass. He listened on the intercom, amazed at how quickly his former partner had managed to get the terrified children's defenses down. They were talking to her. The little girl stared up at Olivia with large puppy dog eyes, the beginnings of devotion dawning in them. The small boy had stopped hiding in the corner and was now seated beside Liv, showing her his loose tooth.

He didn't know how she did it, but she connected with those kids and gained their trust within ten minutes of being in a room with them. And she made it look easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world to her. He and Mac had tried but had gotten nowhere with them.

Elliot had, however, gotten through to Ackerman. He'd managed to control himself and not smash the perp's head into the police car. Later, at the precinct, he'd somehow been able to stave off the intense desire to pummel the dirt bag. He knew he needed to do things by the book this time, because the risk was too high for Ackerman getting off. And Elliot was not going to let that happen.

He listened to Olivia ask the children about being photographed. He observed her as she tenderly comforted the little girl, who had started to cry. His lunch was sitting uncomfortably in his stomach, shooting acid up into his throat making him swallow hard. What those kids had gone through was horrific, as he'd seen in the photos made by their father. But here they were, connecting with Liv, trusting her, and confiding in her. Once again, when confronted with her maternal instincts, a part of him felt deep regret that she'd never had a child. That she'd somehow put her life on hold for SVU. And he wondered sometimes, for him? How old was Liv now? He calculated in his head, born end of '67, so she was almost thirty-eight. Young, younger than Kathy and himself. She could still have his child. He shook his head. She could still have _a_ child or two. Maybe three if he gave her twins; they ran in his family. He shook his head again and tried to concentrate on the interview _. What the fuck is wrong with me?_

"Stabler!" It was Mac pummeling his bicep. He hated that this was her favorite way of getting his attention. "Earth to Stabler!"

"Yeah, what?!" He shrugged her off.

"I was telling you that ACS is sending a social worker over to put the kids into foster care tonight." Mac looked at him. "You were a million miles away."

"I was listening to Liv and the children," he said.

Mac studied him as if he was an idiot. "Yes, and when the children asked for food, you just stared and stared, unaware that I came and went from the room with chips and soda for them. You've been standing there like a doofus with a stupid look on your face, gawking at Olivia."

Elliot glowered at his partner, unable to defend himself.

"Relax, Stabler. I'm not blind. She's a hottie, and you've got it bad." She guffawed and punched his shoulder again.

Elliot gaped at Mac's nonchalance. "I was studying her interview technique with the kids. Nothing wrong with upping my game."

"Sure, and I'm a tall, leggy blonde. Whatever, Stabler." Mac rolled her eyes and sauntered away shaking her head.

Elliot tapped on the interview room's window and Liv came out to talk to him. "ACS is on the way. The kids are going to foster care tonight," he informed her. "Do you think you could explain it to them? I mean," he stammered, "I _know_ you can explain it to them. You're so good with them, Liv. Can't believe you got them to open up to you so quickly."

"I'm the same I've always been, El." She gave him a closed mouth smile and went to return to the interview room.

"Wait!" he gently grasped her upper arm, not wanting her to leave his side.

"What is it? More information?"

"No." Elliot pursed his lips and looked into her eyes.

"Then what is it?" Her voice was light and reassuring. She could see that he was considering for words. "Is it about the case?" She stared at him intently, searching his face for clues. He was looking away from her, toward the interview room, then up at the ceiling, and finally down at the floor.

"El?"

"I miss you." His voice croaked on the words.

"I'm right here. And I plan on getting my old job back. Soon." She spoke with determination, a fire lighting her dark eyes.

"Of that, Liv, I have no doubt."

* * *

Now sporting dark hair and a fake dark mustache, Max Nelligan was careful to only use cash and stay in a cheap motel in the sleazier part of New York. He wore dark sunglasses everywhere, and slouched to try to make himself look shorter. He wasn't sure if the newscast with his photo had gone beyond the local news but he was damned sure going to find out. He made his way to the public library to use the computers, and was relieved that the story had only aired in Delaware. Of course, anybody could search for it online but they'd have to be specific. Various article titles jumped out at him: _Local College Girl Brutally Raped and Murdered, Rape Victim Chokes to Death, Rapist at Large in Dover_. Max ran his trembling fingers over the keyboard and stared at the images on the screen. The girl with the cellphone had captured him from the side, leaning over the dead girl. The victim's body was pixelated out, and because he'd moved when the camera had captured him, the photo was blurry, his features unclear.

Slowly Max began to breathe again. He counted silently to ten and exhaled, then repeated the process. They'd be looking for a smooth faced blond man in Dover, Delaware. The local police force was probably all over that campus, far from New York City. A small smile tugged at the edges of his lips and he gave a self-satisfied smirk. Curious, he began to read all the stories he could about this supposed crime. He was fascinated and went to print out the articles so he could have and hold them, rereading them whenever he wanted to.

After grabbing his sheets from the printer, he decided he could make use of the internet for a bit longer. There was one more thing he needed to check. He Googled Olivia Benson, NYPD, surprised at how quickly the search gave him multiple hits. There she was, her commendations, precinct, and business phone. Max's heart began to race and his hands became sweaty. He clicked on the small photo icon beside her name and enlarged it, running the curser over her eyes, her lips and her hair. Max wanted to run his fingers through the silky chestnut mass. He wanted to tug at it, pull it, and own it. He craved the feel of her body beneath his. He shifted in his chair at the memory of her large breasts and smooth, bronzed skin. Excitement began to build within him as he remembered the way she'd pushed at him, fear and rage flashing in her dark eyes, as the drunken confusion dissipated. He'd held her down and finished what he'd started, making sure to thrust with extra force so she couldn't dislodge him with her angered shoves. He needed to see her again, to touch her, to look into those eyes and relive the moment he'd discovered true power.

* * *

Librarian Anne-Marie Thomas watched the tall man at the computer. Something about his demeanor disturbed her. One moment he was shaking and sweating, the next, he was smirking and chuckling to himself. Whatever he was reading was generating a plethora of expressions on his handsome face, and as such he was drawing attention to himself. She sidled by him and glanced at his screen. Odd, he was reading a short employee bio on the NYPD website. Anne-Marie frowned.

Cautiously, she approached him. "Do you need any assistance with the computers, sir?" she asked, careful to keep her tone light and friendly. She smiled at the man.

The man practically vaulted himself at the screen, planting his large hand on the image of a female officer. "No. I'm fine." He turned his face away, hiding. Quickly, he minimized the page he'd been studying.

The librarian blinked in surprise and backed away. She returned to her computer and accessed the NYPD website. She clicked on city employees and began scrolling, checking out the various thumbprint images and accompanying data. So many women worked for NYPD and Anne-Marie was unable to find the image of the officer that the man had been guarding. Frustrated, she looked up to see what the man was doing now, but he was gone.

Anne-Marie considered. She clicked around on the NYPD website for a bit longer, unsure what to do next. It came to her. She ran over to the printer that the man had used, typed in her special employee code and pressed "reprint". Everything that had been printed in the last half hour shot out of the printer, the paper warm and ink-scented. She leafed through them finding a school assignment, a couple of recipes, and news articles. She brought the papers back to her desk to read them more closely. The articles were all about a brutal rape-murder in Dover, Delaware. Sickening and heartbreaking, she thought to herself, shaking her head.

And then she saw it, the blurry photo. A tall blond man hovering over his blanked out victim. Something was familiar about him. She squinted at the photo, then adjusted her bifocals on her nose. Her eyebrows shot up. "Oh my god."


	18. Chapter 18

_**A/N: I know, I haven't updated in a while now. Sorry, I was trying to finish library books before they were due. Major bookworm. And back to our story ….**_

"Elliot!" Olivia looked up from her desk. It was late afternoon and the Ackerman children had already been taken away by ACS. She was focused on her computer assignment and Elliot's sudden presence startled her.

"Good, you're still here," he observed.

"Obviously." She got up and stood beside him. "What's the matter? Is it the Ackerman kids?" Olivia was still inwardly reeling from meeting the children. Their story had ripped her heart to shreds, and when ACS had finally come, the little girl had clung to Olivia for dear life, clutching her desperately around the waist. The little boy had burst into tears, for they'd finally found an adult they felt safe with. The ACS agent had been stern with them, pulling at the little girl's arms until she could no longer burrow herself into Olivia's safe warmth. "I mean that agent was a real bitch today. She could have given the poor kid a few more minutes to disengage from me." Liv sighed.

Elliot winced at the memory of the ACS agent ripping the Ackerman girl away from Liv. "It's not the Ackerman kids."

"What is it?" Olivia noted his pallor, except for two bright red spots high on each cheek. He was clenching his fists and taking shallow breaths, as though trying to sublimate an intense rage. "You okay, El?" She placed her hand on his taut arm and felt the tension in his tendons.

"Olivia, you need to come downstairs with me. Something's happened." Elliot swallowed. His mouth was dry and his saliva thick. He rubbed the back of his neck, twisting his fingers in the short hairs at his nape.

"Okay, now you're scaring me. What the hell's going on? Did somebody die?"

Elliot blinked and pursed his lips together. "I'll explain downstairs. Just tell your Captain that you're done for the day."

Olivia's heartrate accelerated and adrenaline coursed through her body, giving her shaky legs. "Alright, let me shut down here and talk to my Cap."

Elliot nodded and remained planted where he was, following her with his eyes, as though he was afraid to lose sight of her for even a moment. He watched as she shut down her computer and hurried to her captain's office. He waited while she grabbed her purse and cardigan.

"Are you going to tell me what this is about?" she asked him, as they entered the elevator together.

"We need you to ID something, er someone."

Liv cocked her head. "Is that all? From a previous case?" The elevator doors opened into SVU and she had to run to keep up with Elliot. When she entered the bullpen, Fin got right into Olivia's face.

"I know you're still mad at me, but I'm never gonna apologize for what I did. I only wish I'd done more to stop that sack of shit."

"What?" Olivia shirked back from Fin's sharp words. "What are you talking about?"

"We had him and we let him go! Dammit to hell." Fin slammed his fist hard on his desk, sending a stack of papers flying. As they fluttered to the ground, Olivia grabbed one before it hit the dirty floor. It read, " _Dover_ _Rape Victim Chokes on Bagel during Vicious Assault_ ".

"Where's Dover? That's not in New York."

"Delaware." Munch came up beside Fin and pulled him back, out of Liv's personal space.

"Delaware?" Olivia scrunched up her face, knowing she'd recently heard the word spoken to her. She couldn't quite remember where though. She chewed her lip. "Delaware … somebody was telling me they were from there … oh! Oh! What?!"

"Coming back to you, is it?" Fin huffed out. "I had him, Liv. I had him."

Olivia shrank back from him, her eyes wide and frightened. Next to her, Elliot was glaring at Fin. "We both had him."

"Yeah, and I let him go." Cragen rubbed his hand over his face.

Olivia's gaze flitted between the three men. Elliot and Fin looked angry, whereas the Captain appeared to be wearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. His face was almost grey. "Max?" she whispered.

"He raped a twenty year old college student in Dover. She choked to death during the attack." Cragen brought Olivia to the crime board and showed her the blurry internet photo. "This him?"

Olivia peered closely at the print out and nodded. "Yeah, that's him," she whispered, her voice temporarily paralyzed.

"Oh god, there's another one!" Mac Tate shouted out from her desk. "That makes three so far." The stout woman rounded the corner, her face a mask of horror. "Two more victims have come forward since the media released his photo in Delaware. I've been orchestrating with their local PD."

Olivia felt the blood rush from her head and the room began to darken. "More victims?" she croaked.

"Sit!" Mac grabbed a rolling chair and thrust it behind Olivia, then forcefully pushed her down into it. "You look like you're gonna faint." She pushed Liv's head down between her knees and held it there. Elliot rushed to her side and knelt beside her. He pushed Tate away and replaced her hand with his own on the back of Liv's neck. "Breathe, Olivia. That's it, deep breaths."

From her vulnerable position, Olivia couldn't help but ask about the other victims. "What happened? Who are they?"

"One complainant is Erin Simmons. She's a twenty-five year old from Dover. Says she remembers the perp from a hotel bar. She woke up alone in his hotel room the next morning, with parts of her memory missing, along with a chunk of her hair. She also had the good sense to get a rape kit done because she felt very sore, er, down there." Tate consulted her notes. "Rape kit was positive for tearing but no fluids. He wore a condom. Tox screen was positive for rohypnol."

Olivia shuddered, and slowly raised her head, knocking Elliot's hand off her nape. "Wait, he had a hotel room? How did he pay?"

Tate hesitated, looking at Olivia, before speaking. "You're not gonna faint, are you?"

"No. What the hell, Mac. How did he pay for his room? Did he use a credit card? Because then we've got him."

Mac shook her head. "He paid cash and used a pseudonym." She hesitated again.

"What pseudonym?" Elliot asked. He kept a wary eye on Liv while he addressed his partner.

"Mark. Mark Benson."

"Shit!" Olivia's eyes flew open. "He's making it about me. I thought he was my ex, Mark, "she babbled fearfully. "And the Benson ... oh my god."

"This ain't your fault," Fin said. "The guy's a psycho."

"You have no idea," Mac continued. "Another victim also came forward. Her name is Ingrid Shuman, aged forty-one. He did a number on her." She stopped abruptly and looked around the room.

"Spit it out, Tate!" Elliot's voice hit a higher than normal pitch.

"We got DNA off of her. He beat her unconscious in a pub parking lot and raped her against her own car. Also ripped a chunk of her hair out." Tate gave a grim smile. "Good news is that we got DNA _and_ a witness."

"A witness? Good." Fin nodded his head hard. "Good. A credible one? 'Cause this guy is escalating fast."

"Seems like," Tate replied. "Oscar is elderly but he's very sure of what he saw. He called 911 and scared the perp away. He gave his statement to the local police and even visited the victim in the hospital. He positively identified Max Nelligan. His statement says, and I quote, ' _I could never forget that man's face. I caught him in the middle of the vilest act a man can commit. It's burned into my retinas_.'

"Seems pretty credible," Fin said.

"Yeah, and the photo matches the composite sketch that both Ingrid and Oscar gave their local precincts."

"Plus, we're waiting on security footage from the library," Elliot added.

"The library?" Olivia felt dizzy and sick. Max had raped those other women because she hadn't pressed charges against him. Too much information was coming at her at once, like a tsunami she couldn't outrun. One that she'd set into motion. She crumpled further into the chair and covered her face.

"A librarian came to us after spotting him using the library computers. She said he was acting weird, so she checked to see what he'd printed out. The sicko was reading about his own crimes," Fin explained. "Librarian was sharp. She recognized the dude from the article picture and called us. We interviewed her and called the local Dover police."

"He's here?" Olivia's head shot up and her hands gripped the sides of her chair, nails digging sharply into the foamy plastic arm rests. "In New York City?"

"We're getting you a security detail," Elliot told her. "The librarian also said he was reading the NYPD website's bios and was particularly fixated on one female cop. "Hold on, let me call Anne-Marie. That's the librarian," he told Liv. "Olivia, look up."

"What?" She looked at Elliot and blinked hard when the flash of his phone hit her squarely in the eyes.

"What are you doing?" She rubbed her eyes to get the flash out.

"Anne-Marie? Hello, this is Detective Stabler." Elliot was already on the phone. "I'd like you to identify a photo if you could. Yes, I'm sending it now to your cell phone. _*pause*_ Ok, you got it?" He tapped a pencil on the edge of his desk and remained standing. "Is this the woman from the bio the suspect was reading?"

Olivia watched Elliot as he listened and nodded, his face flushed and angry. He exclaimed loudly and snapped the pencil in his fingers, making her flinch.

"Thank you very much. You have been extremely helpful. We'll let you know if we need you for a line up identification." He hung up the phone and turned to Olivia.

"It's you. He was reading your bio online, studying you." Elliot threw down the piece of broken pencil still in his tense fingers. "Olivia, I think he came to New York because of you."

"Ground zero," Fin added grimly.

"Or, he's trying to disappear in a big city while the Dover police are looking for him," Olivia said. Her voice was thin and unsure. A lump formed in her throat making it difficult to speak. Tears began to well in her eyes and she hastily wiped at them.

Elliot wheeled his chair over to hers and sat down, facing her. "We're going to get him. We know he's in New York and we have one dead victim with witnesses to that crime, along with two complainants and one more witness so far."

"So far … oh my god Elliot, what if there are other victims? This is all my fault. I should have pressed charges." Olivia was openly crying now, her chest heaving with each sob. "You and Fin had him. You had him and I didn't press charges."

"Olivia, it's not your fault that he raped those women," Elliot said, though not entirely convincingly. "You said he didn't rape you. But if you were, uh, _mistaken_ ," he searched his word carefully, "it's not too late to press charges now."

She nodded miserably. "Melinda did a rape kit at Huang's request. She kept it."

"What are you saying?" He peered into her tearful face seeking answers there but she turned her head away, then looked down at her lap. Olivia couldn't face him. Elliot's blue eyes were like truth seeking missiles.

She chewed on her lip and said nothing for a moment, acutely aware of his intense scrutiny upon her. The moment of truth.

"Think back, Olivia. 'Cause what I saw when I found you in his hotel room was bad." Fin came up behind her, gently this time. He crouched beside her chair and put his hand on her shoulder. "You in that shower, sobbing … man, that wasn't right."

Olivia closed her eyes, wanting to shut out the reality that surrounded her. Her mind swept back to her night with Max, wisps of memory like intrusive tentacles, grabbing at her, pushing through the denial. It'd felt like she was suffocating in that bed with him, his full weight on top of her. When she'd panicked and wanted him off, she'd shoved and pushed with all her might but had been unable to dislodge the tall man. She could still see him, sweat pouring from his forehead, his face red with exertion and pleasure. Another sob broke through.

"What is it? What are you thinking?" Elliot whispered to her while Fin waited with bated breath. He kept his strong hand on her shoulder and gently rubbed at the knot of tension there, soothing her.

Liv kept her eyes closed and began to speak, her voice strangled by the lump in her throat. "I was trapped beneath him and he was so heavy. My arms felt completely useless against him … no matter how hard I pushed at him. I told him no. I told him to get off of me." Liv sniffled loudly and opened her eyes, finding that Elliot's blue eyes were still fixed on her.

"Then what happened?" he asked in his best victim soothing tone.

"He pushed me down, hard. I couldn't move. Then said he was almost done." She looked away from him again, unable to bear the grief and anger in his eyes. "He finished while he pushed me down and held me against my will."

"Liv …" Elliot began, but she cut him off.

"He raped me." She took a deep breath. "I'm pressing charges and we're going after this sonofabitch."

 _ **A/N: Poor Liv, finally admitting what's so hard to admit. She's going through a lot now and is going to need Elliot by her side, supporting her. Reviews please. I know it was a long time in updating but I hope you're still reading.**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N: Yup, I know, I haven't updated in almost two weeks. Sorry for the wait, and thanks to those of you who are reading and reviewing.**_

Olivia lay unmoving on the floor of her apartment between her coffee table and couch. A half-empty bottle of Vodka sat open next to her, reproaching, yet seductive. "Well Mom, look at that? I've gravitated to your choice of drink." She spoke aloud, her speech slurred and a bit too loud. "After criticizing you so much. Ha! Isn't that ironic? Guess I'm like you in more ways than one." She wiped her mouth and tried to stand but the room spun furiously and her head slammed back to the floor. "Ugh."

 _Knock. Knock._

"Go away." Olivia scrunched her eyes closed and tried to ignore whoever was at the door. A security detail, Knight and Samson were downstairs in front of her building but she'd told them she didn't want them upstairs. She did not want bodyguards surveying her every move. It'd been bad enough that they'd followed her to the liquor store and given her reproving glances upon seeing her purchases.

The door knocker continued, pounding more loudly at the door. "Olivia, open up. I know you're in there."

She groaned at the sound of Elliot's voice. She couldn't face him. Not after her painful admission at the precinct earlier. If she let him in, and he used that 'victim soothing' voice on her again, she was liable to break in two. After formally pressing charges against Max, Olivia had felt a disgrace like no other creeping through her entire being. She'd waited too long, and Max had gone on a raping spree. A young woman was dead because of her. No amount of Vodka could ease the torment. She stuck her fingers in her ears to drown out the knocking at the door. She didn't deserve Elliot's concern. She certainly wasn't worth it.

Elliot, however, had different ideas. Using his spare key, he let himself in.

"Leave me alone," she mumbled.

"I don't think so." He stepped over to her and grabbed the Vodka bottle, then crouched beside her. "You drank half of this!"

"Still got half a bottle to go," she said.

"Planning on drinking yourself to death?" he asked, his tone harsh.

"It's what Benson women do, don't you know?" She tried to sit up but her stomach roiled in reaction to her drunken vertigo. Ignoring it, she grabbed for the bottle but Elliot held it away from her. Her movement was too quick and her belly responded violently. She could feel the sick already beginning to come up. "Aaaah, sick!" she cried.

Elliot jumped up, grabbed her beneath the armpits and helped her to the bathroom. He opened the toilet lid and held her hair back while she vomited. The pungent stench of Vodka permeated the space around them and she gagged again. Heaving, she emptied the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl before her. Tears ran down her reddened face and she coughed when she was done.

"Good god, Olivia," he whispered as he continued to hold her hair. Seeing that it was over, he uncoiled his fingers from her brown locks and closed the toilet lid, then flushed. "Don't move yet," he cautioned her. "Just in case."

He left her sitting beside the toilet and got her a cool glass of water. "Take a few sips." He waited as she dutifully drank from the proffered glass. Elliot shook his head. "Vodka isn't a solution," he told her, sounding very much like he did when he lectured his children. She rolled her eyes.

"Can you stand up?" he asked her, ignoring the eye roll.

She nodded and allowed him to half lift her to a standing position. Olivia inched herself toward her sink and gasped at the reflection before her. Her face had a greenish tinge to it, no longer reddened by the exertion of vomiting. Her eyes, however, were red and teary. She grabbed a bottle of mouthwash and took a long swig and rinsed out her mouth. "Do you mind?" she asked Elliot. He was watching her as though he might need to catch her any moment.

"Are you done?" he asked. "You need to lie down. You're still a bit green around the gills."

" _A bit_?"

"You were worse in the living room. This is actually an improvement," he told her. "Come on, get into bed, Liv. You need to sleep it off."

"A bit of privacy first. If you don't mind." She glared at him in the mirror and breathed a sigh of relief as he exited the bathroom. Finally alone, she splashed cold water on her face, then brushed her teeth. Her head was still spinning but it was no excuse to feel gross. She quickly shed her clothes to take short, hot shower.

"Are you okay in there?" Elliot knocked at the bathroom door, figuring that Olivia was taking too long. Olivia couldn't hear him, being that she was beneath the loud spray. "Olivia? Liv? You okay?" Elliot stared at the closed door, debating. "Hey, I'm getting worried. Why aren't you answering me? You didn't black out, did you?" Nothing, just the sound of water running. "Dammit, Liv, I'm coming in." He rushed the door before realizing that it wasn't locked, and almost fell onto the damp tiled floor.

"El?" Olivia gasped when she heard him burst into the bathroom. "What the …"

"Are you alright?" he asked. "You didn't answer me." Elliot took a step closer to the shower, trying not to notice her shadow against the semi-opaque curtain. As though unable to control his movements, his head shot up and he gleaned her feminine form outlined before him. He sucked in his breath.

"Get out!" she shouted from behind the curtain. "I'm fine. Just needed a wash." She turned off the water and sleeked her wet hair back, shivering. "Damn, I forgot to replace the towels."

"Where do you keep them?"

"Closet in my bedroom, top shelf." She rubbed at the goosebumps forming on her arms, and her teeth began to chatter. She was wiped out, both physically and emotionally, and the shower had sapped her remaining strength. She heard Elliot's quick footsteps as he hastened back with a dry towel.

"Er, here," he said, and whacked the towel against the shower curtain. Olivia inhaled sharply; it was all too familiar. Being in the shower drunk, while a friend handed her a towel and sympathy. "Liv? Can you grab it?" He stuck it in the small opening of the shower curtain, carefully avoiding any glimpse of her. "Liv? You okay?" He heard a small sob followed by a hiccup. "What's wrong?" He felt her grasp the towel out of his hands, and she sniffled then stifled a sob, causing her to hiccup again. "Hey …" he didn't know what else to say and stood on her bathmat, uncertain.

She stepped out with her towel wrapped around her, wet hair dripping onto her shoulders. "Oh El, what have I done?" Her very soul curled up within her and she collapsed against Elliot, too dizzy to remain upright. Her sobs, more like stifled screams, echoed through the bathroom. "What have I done?" she repeated.

Elliot just held her, and rubbed her lower back as she clung to him 'round the waist. Her head was on his shoulder, tears soaking through his thin cotton shirt. "Shhhhh, Liv. Hush, it's not your fault." He held her more tightly, to absorb her pain. He'd never witnessed her in such a state; a knot of fear asserted itself deep in his belly and he crushed her against his chest.

Olivia pulled back and observed him through tear-filled, reddened eyes. "I should have reported it when it happened," she declared, in a moment of seemingly sober lucidity. She swayed slightly and he caught her by the elbows.

"Come on, you need to lie down." Elliot steered her toward her bedroom, walking backward while she remained pressed into him. "It is my fault," she moaned. "It's all my fault."

He turned around and sat her on the bed, then placed a robe across her lap. She grabbed the silky material hard, twisting it in her fingers. Elliot sat beside her and cleared his throat. "You did not rape those women. You did not murder that college student. You were a victim."

"Don't call me that!"

"Why? There's no shame in being a victim, Olivia."

Her shoulders began to shake and a soft keening sound emanated from deep inside her chest. "But it is … I'm so ashamed. So ashamed. I'm supposed to be the protector, not the victim." She began to wail. "And I didn't protect anybody. I couldn't even protect myself." She looked up at Elliot with tears coursing over her cheeks. "I'm useless as a detective, as a cop. You're better off with Tate as your partner."

"Olivia, stop it!" Elliot grabbed her by the shoulders and stared deeply into her eyes. The fathomless blue depths of his gaze unsettled her and she gasped, tears suddenly abated. "Damn it, Liv … you're strong, and you're a champion of victim's rights. It's not your fault that Max assaulted you." Before she could protest, he silenced her with a finger pressed softly against her plump lips. Tears brimmed in his eyes, making them even bluer, and they burned with passion as he continued. "You were thrown off your game by Tess Morgan, and Max Nelligan took advantage of you when you were vulnerable. You're allowed to be vulnerable. You're allowed to feel grief and pain and be a goddamned human being."

Olivia turned her head away from the scorching intensity of Elliot's cobalt gaze. She knew he could see into her very soul, and it disturbed her insomuch as it made her feel safe and cherished. She wanted to believe his words, and he spoke them with such conviction that part of her conceded. Unconsciously, she found herself nodding.

Elliot took his cue from her and continued. "What would Detective Olivia Benson say to a woman who was attacked during a moment of weakness? Would she blame her? Would she berate the poor woman into a state of self-loathing and shame?" He shook his head. "Because that's what you're doing to yourself right now."

"Elliot …"

"Shhhh, I think she'd show that woman some compassion. I think she'd understand how hard it is for victims to come forward. And I know that Detective Olivia Benson would do her damndest to find justice for that woman."

"But I …"

"But nothing. It was grey, Liv. It was a grey rape ...we knew that from the start. And you know how hard it is to prosecute those. I understand why you didn't want to press charges. You had no way of knowing what he would do. How could you? Are you psychic?"

"Well no, but …"

"It's okay. You are not responsible for the crimes of a psychopath. You didn't do anything wrong, Liv." Elliot stroked her wet cheek, collecting her tears on his thumb. The pain in her eyes broke his heart. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Salty," he whispered.

"Oh El," she had no words. Her chin trembled and emotions warred within her, making her restless and edgy. She was still lightheaded from the Vodka she'd imbibed, and he sat there like a wall of protection. She desperately needed the security and strength he offered her now.

They locked eyes, the air between them swirling with emotion and a potent need for solace. She launched herself against him, seeking safety against his solid chest. His words had been her undoing, while his blue gaze had rendered her incapable of rational thought. "Hold me, El. Just hold me." She squeezed her arms around his neck and held onto him, a buoy in the storm of her distress.

Elliot rubbed her back, the soft, shower dampened skin at her nape, above the towel. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling the floral sweetness of her soap mingled with her natural scent. He wanted to take her pain, her shame and fling it away. He wanted to restore her, to show her her worth and goodness. For she was good, she was lovely and kind and smart and beautiful and perfect and he loved her. Her fingers toyed with the short hair above his collar, and her touch sent a dizzying sensation across his neck, down to his abdomen. His body responded before he could process any of it consciously, an erection asserting itself against her waist. He froze.

Olivia felt the proof of Elliot's passion but was unable, or unwilling to let go of him. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her cheek against his muscular shoulder, the soft cotton of his shirt mopping the tears on her face.

"Liv?" Her name was a plea.

"Mmmmm," she hummed against his neck, loving the heat and cologne in that musky hideaway.

"You need to uh, to uh, to rest," he reminded her. His words felt distant, like somebody else had spoken them. An omniscient chaperone. Catholic guilt is a strong thing. Elliot untangled himself from her grasp and pulled away. He felt cold in the places where his shirt had absorbed her tears and the wetness from her hair. He shivered. Without her body against his, the bulge in his pants was obvious. He shifted away from her and grabbed her robe again, flinging it at her. "Put this on. Please." Her towel had slipped and her generous cleavage was beginning to escape the confines of the terry cloth.

Olivia noted the grim determination on his face and the embarrassed way he tried to hide his erection from her. She pulled the robe around herself and stood, letting the wet towel fall to the floor beneath as she cinched the sash around her waist.

Elliot wasn't sure if the robe was better or worse than the towel. The thin silky material clung to Olivia like a second skin. He couldn't reconcile his desire to comfort her with his body's treacherous arousal. And the last thing he wanted was to take advantage of her while she was drunk and emotional.

"I should go," he said flatly. "You need sleep. And aspirin," he babbled. "You should drink a lot of water and take aspirin. And, uh, Tate will by later to check on you, and then Fin, and then Munch, and then, er, me again, and you won't be alone."

"Why? Samsonite is guarding my building."

"Huh?"

"Samson and Knight … my detail. They're here. I don't want Tate or Fin or Munch." She did not include Elliot in that list and gave him a meaningful gaze. "Please don't go, El," she said, her voice hoarse with emotion. Her gaze fell to his crotch and she flushed.

"I don't think it's a good idea for me to stay right now." He backed away from her, almost fearfully. He didn't know how much longer he could control himself and not pull her into his arms and kiss her soundly until she felt no more pain. He wanted her to feel loved. For once in her life, he wanted Olivia to know she was loved. But if he gave into his emotions now, he feared the avalanche of his feelings would destroy them both.

But Olivia couldn't guess what Elliot was feeling. She only saw that he couldn't wait to get away from her, and that his body's reaction to her closeness had freaked him out. She sniffled and swiped at her nose. "Fine, just go then. Leave. I'll be fine." Her shoulders slumped in abject defeat and she turned away from him, and bent down to pick up her wet towel. Tears threatened to fall again but she didn't want him to see the undoing of his comforting. It'd all been for nothing, because she felt worse now than she had before he'd held her in his arms. She'd finally felt safe and cherished, and now the source of that comfort wanted to escape.

"Liv …"

"Just go, Elliot."

"Are you going to be alright?" He hated the way her neck sloped down and her eyes wouldn't meet his. Sadness emanated from her every pore.

He took a few more steps back and turned away from her, unable to witness her sorrow. He stepped into her living room and saw the half-empty bottle of Vodka still sitting there. And he remembered the way he'd found her, lying on the floor between her couch and coffee table, helpless, and full of self-loathing. He collapsed onto her couch and covered his face with his hands. Was he so weak that he couldn't handle Olivia in this state? That he couldn't put her above his own physical responses? "You're a wimp, Stabler," he whispered to himself. "She needs you."

Olivia sat on the edge of her bed, feelings of guilt and remorse still niggling at her despite Elliot's soothing words. He'd given her a hand up, then pushed her back down with his departure. Why should she have thought he'd stay? Everybody abandoned her eventually, she knew that. She stood up and pulled back her blankets. The smooth pale lavender bedding was inviting and she lay down between the cool sheets, turned onto her side and stared at the wall. Tears wouldn't even come anymore, the heaviness in her heart a heavy stone.

She sensed, rather than heard him. Then the telltale footsteps as he approached her bed. He sat on the edge, pressing down on the mattress with his weight.

"Did you forget something?" she asked warily.

He placed his hand on her shoulder and let out a deep sigh. "You shouldn't be alone right now." He thought of the Vodka and her tears.

"Shouldn't?" Olivia exhaled sharply. "But you said Tate and Fin and Munch would be around later." She turned onto her back to study him, her dark eyes boring into him, seeking to understand his motives. "Don't worry Elliot, Samsonite is out front."

"That's not what I meant." He rubbed his hand down his face.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that it's okay for me to be a goddamned human sometimes."

She nodded, understanding that he was speaking about his previous arousal. She sat up and scooted closer to him. "It's okay. I only wanted you to hold me. That didn't upset me."

"I wouldn't want you to think that I'd take advantage of your state of mind, Liv. I know you're in a dark place right now, and for me to have a, um, woody when I'm trying to comfort you … it's just…ack."

"I feel safe with you, El." She patted his forearm. "You chase away my demons."

"Do you want me to stay?"

She nodded and made room on the bed for him. "Please, tell the others not to come. I only want to be with you."

He closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing the words of her admission. "Lie down," he told her. She lay on the far side of the bed, making room for him. He kicked off his shoes and pants, then removed his tie. As he crawled into bed with her, he pulled the sheet and blankets to cover them up. She backed into him, relishing the wall of security behind her. Her hand reached back for him and he grasped it, intertwining his fingers with her own. She squeezed and he squeezed back. "You really need to sleep."

"Now, I'll be able to."

 _ **A/N: More to come with the hunt for Max. Needed Elliot and Liv to have their own tender chapter. Please R &R. Your support for this story has been very encouraging, and I thank you. **_


	20. Chapter 20

_**A/N: I want to finish this story because the plot bunny is whispering new things to me. Going to try and write quickly. Please R &R. **_

They woke up in a tangle of sheets and limbs, pretzel-like and cozy. Olivia opened one eye, then the other, and glanced down at her legs, long tanned limbs entwined with Elliot's muscled, paler ones. His strong chest pressed against her back, and she burrowed into him, unsure if he was still asleep.

"Hey," he rasped out in a croaky voice. He held her tightly, closing the sliver of space between their warm bodies. "Did you sleep?"

"Ummm, for once, I did." Olivia continued to face the wall and breathed a deep sigh. She wanted to remain in this cocoon of drowsy cosiness forever. "You?"

"Um, well, fine," he said. Elliot didn't want to let on that he'd stayed awake half the night simply staring at her, in disbelief that he was in her bed. He'd observed the tiny twitches and rapid eye movements while she slept, privileged to be present during such an intimate moment. Since the dissolution of their work partnership, he'd found himself growing closer to her in other ways. The weekly lunches, the longer phone conversations, the rooftop visits, and the caring for her beyond the scope of their jobs were new to him. He craved more. But first, he wanted to ensure her safety and remove the threat that was Max Nelligan.

What lay ahead weighed heavily on his heart and he let out a loud sigh.

"You okay, El?" Olivia turned around to face him. The deep blue of his eyes was enhanced by the bluish smudges beneath them. "Looks like you didn't get much sleep after all."

"Don't worry about me, Liv." Elliot gazed into her dark eyes, marveling at her beauty so early in the morning, devoid of makeup. The sun slanted through her window lighting on her hair with a reddish glow.

"I'm gonna worry. That's what partners do." He gave her a meaningful look and grasped her left hand in his. "Before you remind me that we're not partners anymore, I gotta say …" he chuckled softly to himself, "I gotta say that you and me … we've got something that goes beyond our old partnership." His eyebrows lifted in question. "Right?"

Olivia's soft lips slowly rose, the edges of her mouth edging up until her broad smile lit up her entire face. "Right." She reached out with her right hand and clasped Elliot's hand, the one that was already grasping her other hand. His calloused fingers caressed hers softly and he bent down and kissed her knuckle. She briefly closed her eyes, aware of the flip flopping in her tummy. "El."

He looked up, his eyes held by the fathomless depth of Olivia's dark ones. Hands and eyes joined with hers, he leaned into her, tilting his head as he captured her lips with his own. The kiss was soft, tentative and he pulled back before she might object. But she remained unmoving, eyes closed, waiting, with her lips slightly parted. Her eyes popped open when he disengaged, and he swore he saw more disappointment than confusion on her face. "Was that alright?" he asked.

"What do you think, Stabler?" Olivia hoisted herself closer to Elliot, and pressed her forehead against his, aligning their noses. Their lips remained a mere inch apart. "Do it again." Elliot was nothing if not obliging. He released her hands and threaded his fingers through her soft brown hair, cradling her head. The silky strands scattered over his knuckles and wrists, tickling his skin. With a gentle tug, he pulled her face back toward his own and kissed her, breathing in her sweet taste. After a few seconds, he released her.

"Again," she said, breathless. "Again."

He kissed her again, pulled away and kissed her again and again, his lips falling on her mouth, her cheeks, chin, and forehead, then eye lids. "You have terrible aim," she told him before pulling him in for a possessive, open-mouthed kiss. She stroked his hair, then his shoulders before moving her lips down his neck to his pulse point, tasting his scent, inhaling it with her nose and mouth. Her heart raced in tandem with his rapid pulse, and she could almost feel the blood coursing through their veins simultaneously.

"Oh gawd, Liv. . . we have to stop." Though it pained him tremendously to tell her this, he couldn't fully relax. Not while Max Nelligan was still on the loose. And he knew that Olivia was fragile after yesterday's horrific revelations about Max's other victims.

"Why?" She sat up and looked at him, dark eyes flashing, hurt pulsating through her obvious frustration.

Elliot swallowed hard. He fought every urge he had to kiss her again. Instead he said, "Not until we catch Nelligan. Not until I know you're safe."

"But El …"

He cut her off sharply. "And, not until you're in the right head space for this."

She looked away from him and shook her head. "You think I'm too messed up to pursue a relationship with you?"

"That's not what I said, Liv."

Olivia eyed him warily then stood up. "I need to go to the bathroom." She strode off to the adjoining ensuite and shut the door a bit more forcefully than needed.

"Dammit, Liv," he whispered to himself, banging his fists against her blankets.

Moments later, she found him on his phone checking messages. He held out a hand to silence her while he listened.

"Any news?" she asked when he'd hung up. Her heart hammered unpleasantly in her chest.

"Tate and Fin have a lead on the guy. They're checking it out now."

She waited, expecting him to say more. When he didn't, she blurted out, "We should join them and take down this asshole."

Elliot looked at her and blinked hard. "You know you're not allowed to catch your own rapist, Liv."

"But El_"

"No! I'm going to drop you at the precinct where you're going to safely stay on your own floor, at your computer. Then, I'm going to meet up with Tate and Fin, and pursue this lead." Elliot steered past her and to the bathroom before she could protest or demand more information.

* * *

Olivia was pissed. She sat at her desk in Computer Crimes silently seething. Not only had Elliot pushed her away after initiating their first kiss, he'd also had the gall to dump her here while he went off chasing Max Nelligan without her. Her legs thrummed impatiently against the side of her desk, toes scuffing along the floor, _swish, bump, swish_ , and _bump_.

"Cut that out, will ya?" one of her colleagues admonished her. "Some of us are trying to concentrate."

Olivia exhaled sharply and stood up. She took the elevator down the two floors to SVU and found John Munch at his desk. She sidled up to it, leaning on the edge to get his attention. "Hi."

He looked up at her through darkened lenses. "Hi, yourself."

"How come you're not out chasing leads with the others?" she asked him.

"How come you're fishing for information?" he volleyed back, amused.

"Elliot dumped me here, and frankly, I'm feeling useless."

"You're just itching to get him, aren't you?" John asked her sympathetically. He could see she was restless and frustrated.

"Come on, John. What leads did you get? I … I only want to help. I mean, it's my fault _"

"Don't go there, Liv." He put his hand on her forearm and gently squeezed. "His crimes aren't your fault. Don't go blaming yourself."

She opened her mouth to argue but stopped when John shook his head at her. "We don't blame victims here."

"Don't call me that."

"I'm sorry." John felt terrible now because Liv's eyes were tearing up. "How can I help?" he asked her.

Liv wiped at her eyes. "I owe it to Ingrid Shuman, Erin Simmons, and the dead college girl," her voice shook with emotion, "I owe it to those women, and any other victims, to help catch this monster. John, please tell me what leads you have."

"Alright, but if Cragen catches you at my desk, we tell him it's just a friendly visit, okay?" John got up to pour them some of his famous battery acid. "We're having a cup of coffee together, kid."

She nodded and grabbed Tate's desk chair, her old chair, and rolled it over to John's desk. John pulled out his files, glanced around the room checking for Cragen, and ducked his head low. He whispered the information to Olivia. "Here's the security footage from the library. As you can see, Nelligan is sporting a faux moustache and dyed his hair. But it's definitely him."

Olivia grabbed the photo and balked. She dropped it back on John's desk and shuddered. "It's him."

"Right, so we figured he's probably staying somewhere close to the library, unaware that the librarian made him. With street cams, we were able to trace his progress to this bodega. The bodega's security cam confirms that he made a purchase about half an hour after he left the library." John took out more camera footage, this time of Max at the bodega counter purchasing snacks. Olivia glanced at it quickly before looking away.

"Anything else?" she asked.

"Yeah, he paid everything in cash."

"Damn. Probably using the name Mark Benson again," she said flatly.

"Funny you should say that. We checked nearby hotel and motel guests with that name and got a hit."

"What? Seriously? I was half kidding. Could he be that stupid?"

"Yeah, he's pretty stupid, Liv. A Mark Benson checked into _Loveless Hotel_."

"Isn't that one of those 'pay by the hour' places for hookers and johns?" she asked.

"It's a total flophouse. Fin and Tate got there this morning but he'd checked out. He's on the move."

"So maybe not so stupid after all," she groused. "Where are we at now?"

"Fin and Tate are searching the area for him. Unis are showing his photo around." John shrugged his shoulders. "So, we wait."

Olivia pursed her lips and stood up, a look of fierce resolve on her face.

"Oh no you don't," John warned her. "I know that look, and I'm telling you, you can't go. Cragen would have your ass. And mine."

"Sorry, John. I, uh, need to buy a few things … from a bodega."

"Olivia, wait!"

She waved him off and hurried to the elevators, her ponytail bobbing with each determined step.

 _ **A/N: Please stay tuned for the conclusion of this story. Reviews are always appreciated. Thanks!**_


	21. Chapter 21

Max was scared shitless. He'd been running and hiding for hours now. Beneath his ball cap, sweat glued his hair to his scalp despite the early autumn chill. Hunted, he ducked into a smelly alleyway and hid behind a dumpster. Pairs of uniformed cops were marching the streets like sentries, his photo in hand. Their cars, lights flashing, were parked haphazardly here and there. But it was the dogs that did it. Max was terrified of large dogs. Some of the cops had huge German Shephard dogs, barely restrained, the K-9 unit of the NYPD.

He'd left his crappy motel that morning, intending to lose himself in another section of the city, switching up his stays and never remaining at the same place longer than one night. And now, it seemed that the entire police department was searching for him, crawling the sidewalks between the cheap motel and the bodega he'd visited last night. His car was already gone, impounded by the police. To escape, he desperately needed to find the subway entrance. But given his obvious height and the circulating photo, he didn't know how to do that unobtrusively. He berated himself for driving his own car into the city. He should have parked it at a train station or rented a car using his pseudonym. Anything. He couldn't afford to make stupid mistakes, not if he wanted to see Olivia again. And he needed to see her again. Needed to feel her writhing body beneath his own. Needed to feel her pushing at him while he pushed back and pounded into her. And most of all, he needed to touch the silkiness of her hair, and add it to his collection. He became aroused at the mere thought of ripping it out of her scalp.

With heightened vigilance, he watched a pair of uniformed cops with a dog pass his alleyway, unseeing. He exhaled sharply and made himself as small as possible between the brick wall and the dumpster, the stench of garbage filling his nostrils.

"My dog's got something!" a cop yelled out, doubling back to the alley. The dogs had been given items from Max's car to sniff, and one of the canines was onto him. The large German Shepard pulled at his handler, practically dislocating the man's arm. Max saw the cop and dog heading into the alleyway and freaked out. He climbed into the dumpster to get away, landing in something soft and squishy, and equally smelly.

"What is it, boy? Is he here?" the cop asked his dog. The dog responded by lunging into the narrow chasm between old buildings. He began whining as he approached the dumpster, then began to scratch at it. The cop shone his flashlight into the dumpster. "Well lookie what we have here."

* * *

Olivia didn't get very far before her phone began pinging. Texts from Elliot informed her that Max had been apprehended.

 _We got him, Liv. K-9 unit found him. Need you for line-up ID, at precinct ASAP._

Olivia stared at her phone, a maelstrom of emotions swirling through her. Relief, anxiety, anger, fear … they all warred within her at once. She'd been fantasizing about capturing Max herself. About arresting him and bringing him in. She had envisioned the perfect moment when he'd realize she had him, eyes wild with fear. Instead, a dog had bested her. She let out mirthless chuckle and rounded back to the precinct. He's off the street, she thought to herself. He's going to get what's coming to him.

* * *

Elliot observed Max Nelligan before sitting at the interview table across from him. "You stink!" he commented.

"I hid in the dumpster," Max admitted, shamefaced. As though being smelly was the worst of his offenses.

"Just like the garbage you are!" Elliot shouted at him. Elliot wanted to hit him but the oozy slime covering Max's shirt warned him off.

Max cowered before Elliot, no doubt remembering his fists and subsequent broken nose. Tate came to stand beside Max's chair and placed her hands on the backrest. "Ingrid Shuman. Erin Simmons. Michaela Bauer!" She spoke each name in a sharp staccato, punctuating a slam of her fist on the chair, startling Max three times.

"Who … who … who are they?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"Really, you're going to pull this crap on us now?" She asked, almost amused. She banged the back of his chair again, skimming his neck with a sharp fingernail in the process. He recoiled from her, looked to Elliot, and then shrank back into his chair.

"I want my lawyer!" he demanded. Tate and Elliot eyed each other, and Tate let out a derisive snort.

"Your wife is here. Does she know your lawyer?" Elliot smirked at him.

For all the world, Max looked both relieved and terrified at the same time. "Eleanor is here? You called her?"

"Actually, no. She came of her own volition after we got a search warrant for your place. She wants to talk to you."

Max trembled at Elliot's words. He nodded reluctantly. "Alright, send her in."

* * *

Olivia sat in Cragen's office with Casey Novak. "So, Nelligan lawyered up. We're waiting for his lawyer, and then he's doing a lineup. Unfortunately, I can't let you observe his interview."

"Right, I've got this," Liv stated, her chin jutting out. She nodded forcefully. "I've got this."

"It's not all on you, Liv," Casey reminded her, the double entendre clear. She placed a gentle hand on Olivia's forearm and squeezed.

* * *

Eleanor Nelligan sat at Fin's desk, willing the nausea that overwhelmed her to recede. The police search of her home had uncovered Max's bloody hair samples. She'd known for some time that something was off with her husband, but she'd been under the impression that it was fixable with prayers, good home cooking and more attention. Right now, she wanted to slide beneath the desk and never come out.

"Mrs. Nelligan?" Elliot came to get her. "Your husband will see you now."

She stood on trembling legs and followed the handsome detective to a dingy interview room bathed in greenish fluorescent lighting. Her husband sat at a large table chewing his nails, while a tough looking masculine woman guarded him.

"Eleanor, Sweetheart," he pleaded, desperation and shame oozing out of him like a bad odour. Eleanor pinched her nostrils and exhaled sharply.

"I know I smell bad, Sweetie, but I really just need to hug you right now." Max turned his full on dimpled smile and tried to make his blue eyes beam at his wife. She recoiled.

"Don't touch me!"

"Now, Eleanor, don't be like that. You've got to hear my side of the story."

"I've heard it all from the police," she accused. Her face was drawn and grey. "The hair samples … oooh my god, what did you do?" A heart wrenching sob broke from her chest and she turned and ran out of the interview room.

"Wait! Call my lawyer. You have to call the lawyer!" Max shouted after her.

Sometime later, Max's lawyer, Lou Greenspan arrived despite Eleanor not making the call. Together with Casey, they arranged for the lineup ID. Olivia and the librarian, Anne-Marie would be making this ID, one after the other. The victims from Delaware were being flown in to make their identifications the next day. In the meantime, Max would be held in the tombs awaiting arraignment.

After the librarian positively identified him, it was Olivia's turn. She stood in front of the two way mirror with Elliot at her side. "You've got this, Liv," he whispered into her ear.

"No coaching!" Greenspan objected.

Olivia and Elliot glared at him.

"Ok, Liv, take your time," Casey said. She patted Liv's shoulder and gave her a tight smile. Olivia nodded at her.

Held up between her friends, Olivia took a deep, fortifying breath. The lineup came into the room, five men, all of them tall, with the decoys bearing facial features similar to Max's. But it really was a no-brainer. Despite his dyed hair, she'd recognize him anywhere. She could never forget the face of the man who had held her down in those terrifying few minutes, his blue eyes boring into her as sweat poured off his face. She would never be able to erase the image of his sweaty, red face while he orgasmed inside of her as she'd struggled beneath him. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around herself. She stumbled slightly against Casey and the blood drained from her face. Elliot saw her go pale and grasped her arm for support.

"You okay? Do you need a chair?" Elliot studied Olivia, a cloud descending on his eyes. She looked away from him.

"I'm fine. It's number two." She retained a quiet dignity in that small room, head held high despite the light headedness that assailed her now. Elliot's hand was on her shoulder and Casey grasped her fingertips in quiet support.

Elliot tapped twice on the window.

"Come on," he led Olivia out of the room and to the Cribs where she collapsed onto one of the beds. He sat next to her and held her hand. "You did great. You got him. So did the librarian."

"Good, good," she muttered, exhausted. "Seeing him again just now, it was …" she trailed off, not knowing how to express the disgust, shock and revulsion she was experiencing.

"It's okay," he murmured into her ear. "Come 'ere." Elliot embraced her, stroking her ponytail as she burrowed her face into his chest. He felt her settle her face in the crook of his neck like she had last night in her bed. He closed his eyes and held her tightly until her trembling subsided.

* * *

"I just don't think it's a good idea," Tate advised her.

"I'm gonna go with Tate on this," Elliot said.

"No, I want to see him. I have some things I need to say." After resting in the Cribs, she felt her strength returning to her limbs. Determination and indignation are powerful stimulants. "I have a right to confront my attacker."

"Yeah, sure, in a court of law," Tate said.

Olivia wouldn't back down. "You can both come with, but he can't hurt me from his cell."

"Liv, you were pretty shaken up after the ID. You sure you can handle this?" Elliot was never one to deny her but he wanted to protect her. She met his eyes with resolve, the deep pools of melted chocolate unwavering and steady. "Alright," he conceded. "But we're going with you."

Elliot and his partner accompanied Olivia to the tombs, between them, offering a hedge of protection on either side. She stood tall, towering over Tate, but still the older woman's presence gave her a feeling of security and she was grateful for it.

As they approached Max's cell, Olivia swallowed back the urge to scream at him. Instead, she casually sauntered over to the bars of his cell and waited for him to notice her. A pathetic figure, he simply sat, his face in his hands, moaning quietly to himself. She cleared her throat and he looked up. The change was night and day. His eyes lit up and a huge dimpled smile broke out on his face.

"Olivia? Olivia? Is that really you?" Max stood up and ran to the bars.

"What the fuck?" Tate muttered to herself.

Olivia frowned, caught off guard by his enthusiasm and blatant joy.

"I'm so happy to see you again. Finally. I've been dreaming of this moment," he babbled.

"And I've been dreaming of seeing you behind bars," she volleyed back after a slight hesitation. "After what you've done!"

"I didn't do anything wrong, Olivia. You have to believe me!"

Olivia almost stopped breathing. "Are you insane? You went on a raping and murdering spree."

"No, no, no, you have it all wrong. Let me explain, please. You have to understand." Max's eyes darted wildly, and he mopped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. "Please."

"Understand what? Are you going to tell me why you raped those women?" She approached the bars until she was nose to nose with him. "How can you possibly justify your actions?"

"I was looking for you. Don't you see? I was looking to relive our night together."

Olivia recoiled from him. "Our night together? You mean the night you raped me?"

"You know that wasn't rape. You followed me. You wanted me. You said. ."

She cut him off. "I was drunk. I was incapable of consent. Just like that woman you drugged. The one we know of. How many, Max? How many others?" She gritted her teeth and grabbed the cell bars, shaking them as though she could shake sense into Max's deluded beliefs.

"It doesn't matter." He looked down at her with longing. "None of them were you. They didn't feel the same. They didn't smell right. And their hair. . .their hair was all wrong."

"Olivia …" Elliot couldn't remain silent. He couldn't take one more moment of that asshole tormenting Olivia. "Come on, it's time to go."

"We just got him admitting to more rapes, El," she croaked, her pulse quickening. She turned her head away from Max and sought refuge in Elliot's face.

"Stop saying I raped them!" Max shouted, his features morphing from quiet sincerity to rage. It happened so fast that none of them reacted quickly enough. He thrust his hand through the bars while Olivia was turned away from him. His trophy was right there, ripe for the plucking. With no forewarning, he grabbed Olivia's ponytail and yanked it with such force, that her head crashed into the bars behind her.

She screamed from shock and pain, while Max continued pulling at her hair. She grasped her head to stop him from pulling her hair out by the roots. She feared he would scalp her on the spot.

"Let go of her!" Elliot and Tate both shouted at the same time.

"No, she's mine. Back off!" Max's other hand came through the bars and closed around Olivia's throat. He squeezed, his large fingers blocking her airway. He'd pulled himself back as far as he could go into the cell, long arms stretching before him. They wouldn't be able to dislodge him without first coming into the cell. And when they opened the door, he'd grab Olivia's entire body. If he was going to go down, he was going to be holding his prize.

Tate pulled her gun while Elliot went to get the keys. "Let her go, or I'll shoot." Tate aimed her gun at Max's forehead, watching in grim horror as Olivia's lips took on a bluish tinge. The tall brunette was now slumped against the bars, eyes wild with horror and fear. Her hands had slipped from her head as she valiantly tried to dislodge Max's hand from her throat. Too weakened by lack of oxygen, her arms now fell uselessly at her side.

"Stabler!"

"Hold on, I'm coming." Elliot approached with a handful of keys, trying to figure out which one opened Max's cell. There were too many on the ring, all with different codes engraved onto them. In his panic, he couldn't find the right one.

"She can't breathe!" Later on, in hindsight, some would say Tate panicked. Others would say she saved Olivia's life in the only way she could. 1PP would become a thorn in her side, and ultimately, she'd be forced into early retirement. But right now, with a madman strangling Olivia Benson to death, Mac Tate did the only thing she could. She pulled the trigger.

 _ **A/N: An epilogue to follow shortly. Please R &R. To those of you who reviewed previously, thank you so much**_.


	22. Chapter 22

_**A/N: Finally updating after such a long hiatus. Hope you're still reading, and I apologize for the delay. (Oh and BTW, I never liked Ed Tucker. Don't even talk to me about Tuckson *gags*)**_

The whooshing of the ventilator kept time with the beeping of the heart monitor. Olivia watched as the mechanical pump filled with air then deflated, and slowly filled up again. Her eyes followed the breathing ventilator's tube and landed on Max's ashen face. His misshapen head was still wrapped in post-surgical gauze that did nothing to hide the concave crater where his forehead had been.

"You need to make a decision, Mrs. Nelligan," the doctor said. Olivia spun around as Eleanor and a doctor entered the room together.

"Mrs. Nelligan, er, I'm leaving," she murmured to Max's wife.

"You don't have to," the older woman replied. Like a ragdoll with no stuffing, she collapsed into the chair beside her husband's bed and exhaled. "I know he hurt you." She looked up at Olivia, grey eyes swimming in unshed tears. "He hurt so many women."

"I'm sorry." Olivia didn't know what else to say. She'd come to see Max for closure. Fin was in the lobby waiting for her, as she'd needed to do this alone. Needed to see that he wasn't going to hurt anybody ever again. Ever.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't see the clues. That I didn't realize what my husband was doing. That I didn't stop him." Her voice broke and she began to sob.

To say the moment was awkward was an understatement. Olivia chewed her bottom lip and looked frantically toward the door. But something in Mrs. Nelligan's demeanor stopped her from bolting. The poor woman was devastated. After a small hesitation, Liv approached Mrs. Nelligan and tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. "You can't blame yourself," she told her. "He acted of his own will. If anybody could have stopped him, it was me."

"You?" Eleanor studied Olivia with wide eyes. "How?"

"I'm a cop. I didn't press charges after, um, after the incident." It was still too hard to admit.

"He raped you."

"I was his first one. He escalated quickly afterwards, but …" she trailed off, unsure how to finish her sentence.

"But what, dear?" Mrs. Nelligan held on to Olivia's words like a life line.

"But it was grey. I was so drunk and confused." She shook her head. "It was stupid of me to drink so much. It's unlike me."

"He probably topped you up while you weren't looking. Max does that. _Did_ that. Took me a while to figure out why my wine glass was always full back when we were dating," she scoffed. "He had a way about him. So much damned charm. Those blue eyes and dimples."

Olivia blinked in recognition. "Yes, my wine glass was always full that night."

The older woman nodded her head. "Don't blame yourself. Max has been unfaithful for years, and used his wine trick to seduce many women. I just never thought he'd become violent. He never hit me, not ever."

"Then, you had no reason to suspect, did you?" Olivia reassured her. "Please don't blame yourself either. He is responsible for his crimes, not you."

"Back at you, dear."

"Ahem!" The doctor, still in the room, made his presence known. "Mrs. Nelligan, I still need your decision."

Max's wife nodded and stood up. "Yes, I give my consent." She took a deep, fortifying breath. "Do it."

"Thank you, Ma'am." The doctor then paged an orderly and began unhooking Max from his machines.

"What's going on?" Olivia remained in the room, glued to the floor. She watched as Max's breathing tube was pulled from his mouth, and the heart monitor shut off.

"He's brain dead," Eleanor told her. "I gave them permission to harvest his organs." She stared at her husband's lifeless body and sniffled.

Olivia gaped at her, then back at Max as the orderly started to wheel him out of the room. "I'll give you time alone," she told Mrs. Nelligan.

Mrs. Nelligan simply shook her head and began to follow her husband's body into the corridor, putting a hand on the gurney to still it. "At least they can use your body to save some lives," she choked out. She released the side of the bed and slowly buckled down onto her haunches, squatting in the middle of the hallway. "Good bye, Max." She watched as her husband's gurney wheeled out of sight.

"Mrs. Nelligan, can I call someone for you?" Olivia crouched down beside the distraught woman. "Can I drive you somewhere?"

"My sister is coming to fetch me," she told Olivia. "Thank you, dear. You've been very kind. Again, I'm so sorry for all of this."

"Please don't apologize. Remember, it was his fault."

Mrs. Nelligan nodded. "I hope you remember that too."

* * *

Olivia found Fin waiting for her in the hospital lobby's café. He sat at a high table perched on a stool, reading the newspaper. She pulled back the stool next to him and joined him. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," he said, putting the newspaper down. "Are you okay?"

Olivia nodded and grabbed a sip of Fin's coffee. "I will be. I will be."

Fin studied her, the unwavering dark eyes in her beautiful face. "You're right." He patted her on the shoulder, relieved that she appeared to be calm and relaxed. The smudges beneath her eyes were dark from lack of sleep, but the full-on panic from earlier had receded. He took back his coffee from her hands. "You don't need a stimulant. You need sleep, girl. I'm gonna take you home."

"Sure, whatever. It's over. He's dead, you know. They're harvesting his organs right now."

Fin wrinkled his nose at the thought of parts of Max surviving in other people. But then he thought of all the lives that would be saved. "That's cool."

"What's going to happen to Tate?" she asked, changing the subject away from Max or his organs.

"IAB is all over her ass. They're gonna want to interview you about the shooting. Elliot is trying to smooth things over with them, but Tucker is a real hard ass."

"She doesn't deserve that. She saved my life. I'll make sure Tucker understands that."

"Showing him your neck will help," Fin told her. He shook his head at the ugly sight of Max's finger marks imprinted into her delicate skin.

"Take me to 1PP, Fin. Please. Elliot and Tate are there, and they need me."

"Are you sure? You can rest and wait until IAB calls you."

"No. I want to do it now."

Fin knew better than to argue with her. "A'right. I'll take you. He slid off the stool. "Hey Liv?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we okay? You and me?" Fin gave her an apprehensive half-smile, his hazel eyes wide and unsure.

"We're fine. I should have listened to you before. You were just looking out for me, like you always do. Thank you, Fin." She stood up before him, opening her arms for a hug. He pulled her into himself, holding tightly.

"You've had a rough go, but the worst is over now, baby girl. You're gonna be just fine." She squeezed him hard and sought comfort in him.

* * *

She sat across from Tucker, refusing to shrink beneath his icy blue stare.

"So you're telling me that Mac Tate had no choice but to shoot the perp while he was behind bars?" Tucker asked her with a shake of his head. A permanent sneer was etched upon his face making his incredulity apparent.

With unwavering resolve, Olivia nodded. "Doesn't matter that he was behind bars; he was strangling me. I couldn't breathe."

"And what? Stabler couldn't get the keys to his cell in time?" His eye roll was almost audible.

"I was struggling for oxygen, so I can't answer that."

"It's almost as if you three concocted an excuse to execute Max Nelligan," he threw out, his voice as harsh as his accusation.

Olivia gaped at him. "What?" The shock of Tucker's implication made her dizzy.

"You felt too embarrassed to go to trial because you, a seasoned detective, allowed herself to get raped. You couldn't handle the shame of it all, and didn't know if you'd get an indictment. The thought of him getting off was too much to bear. Your pride couldn't take it." Tucker steepled his fingers together and leaned back in his chair, a cruel smirk on his face.

Tucker's exacting scenario cast Olivia in such a horrific light that she didn't know how to respond. She felt her jaw drop open and quickly clamped it shut.

"I take your silence as confirmation of my theory," he said flatly.

It took a moment for Liv to regain her bearings. She blinked stupidly a few times at Tucker, a sense of injustice and anger building within her. "Are you insane?" she finally blurted out.

"I beg your pardon, Detective?" His voice was low, menacing.

"You think we executed Nelligan? That we somehow connived a scenario in which he would try to strangle me?"

"You walked past his cell, didn't you?"

"I had some final words to say to him. And in response to your previous allegation, I did not 'allow' myself to get raped." Olivia was sure of her words now. "I did not conspire to execute Nelligan. Neither did Tate or Stabler. Your accusations are way off base, Lieutenant." Olivia's face was flushed and her eyes glinted dangerously.

"Are you done, Detective?" Tucker appraised her and sniffed.

"What's going to happen to Detective Tate?"

"She's on mandatory leave pending further investigation," he informed her.

"You can't punish her for protecting me." Unconsciously, her fingers wove their way up to her neck, and she soothed the reddened, injured area, wincing at the pain.

"I think we're done here, Detective Benson. If IAB needs to speak with you again, we know where to find you." Tucker stood up and strode toward the door. "Good bye."

Olivia had no choice but to exit his office. She gave him one backward glance and shook her head. Tucker's chin stuck out, and his pale blue eyes remained unblinking.

* * *

"Olivia!"

She swung around at the sound of his voice. Fin and Elliot were together in the 1PP parking lot waiting for her, their cars parked side by side.

"Look who I found," Fin said. "I think I'm gonna take off Liv. You got a ride."

"Oh, alright. Thank you, Fin. Thank you for earlier." Olivia gave Fin a smile and patted his arm. "I really appreciate everything you've done for me. Now, and before."

"Anytime, kiddo." He got into his car and drove away.

"So …." Elliot began.

"So …" Olivia echoed.

"How's your neck?" Elliot stepped up to her and gently brushed her long hair off her shoulders. He looked at the angry red marks on her neck and clenched his teeth. "That son of a bitch."

"He's dead, El. I just came from the hospital."

"That's not gonna go well for Tate, but I'm glad he's dead. He can't ever hurt another woman again. He can't hurt you." His voice cracked and he sniffled.

"I'm worried about Tate. Tucker wants to hang her out to dry."

"What did he say to you?" Elliot leaned against his car and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Oh, I think I would. He already accused Tate and me of setting Max up to strangle you so we could execute him. The guy is fucking nuts."

"Ah, so we got the same spiel. Can't imagine you reacted well to that accusation."

"Me? Nah, I was fine." Elliot looked down at his hand and Liv saw that the knuckle was swollen and bruised.

"What did you do? I mean, he was still in one piece when I talked to him."

"You sound surprised," he said with a grin. "Nah, I just punched his desk. The asshole jumped three feet in the air. It was pretty funny."

"Glad you've managed to keep your sense of humour, El. But really, is Tate in trouble?" Liv chewed her bottom lip, and Elliot watched as the glossy lower lip slid in and out from between her teeth.

"El?"

"Huh?"

"She's really in trouble, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is. But Tate is fifty-seven. She's put in her time. So long as she doesn't lose her pension over this, she'll be okay. Her union rep is advising her to take it and run. Can't say I disagree with that."

"Oh." Olivia didn't know how to respond. She felt terrible for the woman who had saved her life, and hoped she wouldn't be prosecuted in any way.

"You know what that means, don't you?" Elliot said.

"What?"

"There's an opening in SVU. I need a new partner."

 _ **A/N: Almost at the finish line. Please review. . . please. Ok, I won't beg. But I'm not above it.**_


	23. Chapter 23

_**A/N: Finally. . .an ending. Thanks for reading.**_

 _Epilogue_

 _Three Months Later_

Olivia wrenched the perp's hands behind his back and cuffed him. She shoved him into the back of the squad car, then wiped her hands on her black jeans. Life was back to normal, more or less. After IAB's investigation into Tate's shooting, and a few more sessions with Dr. Huang, Olivia was declared fit for duty. Back to SVU, with Elliot at her side. This was their second week working her old beat, their second week of busting rapists and pedophiles, side by side.

They drove back to the precinct in silence, the only noise coming from the suspect in the back, smacking his head against the plastic divider. _Thud Thump Thud_. Olivia gritted her teeth and turned around to give him a dirty look. The dark glint in her eyes shut him up.

"You okay?" Elliot asked her, after a quick glance to the passenger side.

"Yeah," she replied, indifferently. She stared out the window and sighed deeply.

Elliot pursed his lips but said nothing while he drove. Once at the precinct, they brought the perp to the interview room, leaving him to stew for a while before commencing their interrogation. At their joined desks, Olivia was searching for pen and pad.

"You got a minute?" Elliot said.

"Um, sure." She turned to face him and put the pen down.

Elliot nodded in the direction of the Cribs, and she followed him up the stairs. "What's going on, El?" she asked.

"You know Liv, I'm so glad you're back. Finally, we get to be partners again. And it wasn't easy," he prefaced.

"Yeah, no kidding, it wasn't easy. Between needing Huang's approval, poor Tate being forced to retire, and healing from the entire ordeal, it hasn't been easy." She slumped onto one of the beds and put her hands up to her forehead. Elliot sat next to her.

"But are you glad you're here?"

She looked up at him from between her splayed fingers, then quickly looked away.

"Liv?"

For a moment, she was silent. When she spoke, her voice in the quiet room startled them both. "I thought that all I wanted was to get my old job back. To work with you again. To be in SVU." She stood up and began to pace between the bunk beds. "The entire time I was in Computer Crimes, I kept thinking that I'd feel better once I got my old job back." She shook her head sadly.

"Yet you don't seem very happy since you got back," he observed. "You seem kinda, I dunno, lost. Bored? Detached?"

"Are you asking me?"

"Yeah, I guess. Why, Liv? Why aren't you happy anymore? Is it the job? Did you prefer Computer Crimes?" Elliot cringed slightly while he awaited her reply.

"No, I want to stay in SVU."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "But?"

"But …" her words trailed off, and she padded toward him, sitting back on the bunk. She turned to face him, searching his deep blue eyes for something, courage, acknowledgement, reciprocity. Anything. She needed to feel his thoughts again. She closed her eyes for a moment and concentrated on the man before her. Even though she couldn't see him, she could feel his presence, his strength, the warmth radiating from his body so close to hers.

 _Whatever it is, Liv, I want to help_. Wordlessly, his thoughts flitted to her own. Her eyes popped open and she stared at him.

 _I miss you._

 _I'm right here, Liv._

 _Not like before._

He nodded and ran his hand over the rough blanket until it reached her leg. "That night, in your apartment, when I stayed with you …", he began.

"Yes," she cried. Tears welled in her eyes. "You held me all night."

"We kissed," he said, memories of her soft lips against his own flooding his brain.

"I'm safe now, El." She reminded him of his words to her that night. "And Max Nelligan is dead. It's over." Her lips trembled and she placed a tentative hand on his stubbled cheek. His skin was warm beneath her cool hand. Elliot reached out and held her hand in place, his thick fingers entwining with her slim ones. They sat like that, hands joined on his cheek, gazing into each other's eyes.

"Hey, you two comin' or what? Your suspect is freaking out!" Fin burst into the Cribs, saw the tender scene before him, and took a step back. "Whoa, sorry."

"It's okay, Fin." Olivia stood up after disentangling herself from her partner.

"Ya know …" Fin started. "I could use a new partner. We work well together, don't you think, Liv?" He waited as the meaning sunk in.

"Right. I don't think there's any regs against dating somebody in your precinct who isn't your partner," Elliot said, nodding vigorously. He grabbed Liv's hand.

"True. I dated Cassidy," Olivia said.

"Don't remind me," Elliot groaned, and Fin let out a snort.

"What I think Fin means is …" Before she could finish her sentence, Elliot's mouth was upon hers, demanding, hot, and open. She turned into him and clung to his shoulders as desire seared between them. His lips were soft yet firm, exploring hers with tenderness and passion. Olivia kissed him back fully, surrendering to her longing at last.

"Ahem, guys? Guys? Perp is waiting," Fin reminded them, clearly embarrassed by the public display of affection. He turned around to give the couple some privacy. "Guess the perp can wait," he muttered to himself. "There's always gonna be a perp waiting. A hump to bust, somethin'."

Olivia and Elliot did not hear Fin. In that moment, they knew only the feel of each other, her arms around his neck, his around her waist. She pulled back first, drawing a deep breath. "Again," he whispered. She smiled at him from beneath dark lashes, a mischievous grin on her face. Olivia smiled against his mouth, and he tasted her happiness. And just like that, he knew she was back. She was back, and she was his.

 _A/N: Hope you liked it, dear readers._


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